


Moonlight Harmonies

by LinneaKou



Series: Saltwater Melodies [the series] [2]
Category: H2O: Just Add Water, Mako Mermaids, Splash (1984), Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Family Fluff, Fluff and Humor, High School, Mermaids, Mermen, Multi, Musicians, Prequel, Side Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-05-28 11:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 23,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15047843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinneaKou/pseuds/LinneaKou
Summary: Even before the eclipse, the residents of Lucía Bay had interesting lives. (And after the eclipse, even the merkids had moments of normalcy.)[A collection of short stories from theSaltwater Melodiesuniverse.]





	1. Pearls

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to collect and clean up the shorts that I'd already posted on Tumblr, some of which are prompts. A few of them won't be showing up here for... _reasons._

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _For as long as he could remember, Babushka had always owned a lovely, simple pearl bracelet._
> 
>  
> 
> A reflection on inheritance, featuring Viktor and his grandmother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a prompt by izzyisozaki, "pearls"
> 
> Contains off-screen death of an elderly family member, some minor instances of mourning.

For as long as he could remember, Babushka had always owned a lovely, simple pearl bracelet. The pearls themselves were smaller than Viktor’s fingernails, but they shone brightly on his grandmother’s wrist as her arthritis-ridden fingers crept over the piano’s keys.

“Where did you get that?” he asked when he was ten, and her eyes grew misty.

“From your Dedushka,” she answered, patting him on the head. “Now, watch closely.”

Viktor had never known his grandfather, who passed away before he could really recall much. He’d seen pictures, and videos, but those weren’t enough for him to really form a connection with the man. He heard plenty of stories from his dad, and from Babushka whenever he visited her.

Mom had come with him that day because Dad was at work, and she was cleaning up in the kitchen from their lunch. Babushka had taken Viktor’s wrist and tugged him into the sitting room, where the baby grand waited.

“How are your lessons?” she asked as he took her place on the bench. “Is Yakov teaching you well?”

Viktor nodded, tearing his eyes away from the pearls and the antique clasp dangling over her delicate wristbone. “I’m learning a lot,” he said.

“Show me.”

He carefully picked out the melody to Chopin’s Prelude in E-minor, which he’d begun to learn the previous month, and she smiled softly from her perch on the end of the bench. She asked him about his homeschooling, about his playdates, his hobbies, and applauded him when he played Bach for her - Bach had always been one of her favorites.

“You have a gift, Vitenka,” she breathed, squeezing his shoulder. “Promise me you’ll never forget that.”

He’d promised, a child’s promise given with no hesitation.

 

He was nineteen when Babushka passed away after battling stomach cancer for two years, and he was still numb from the wake when Uncle Denis pulled him and his cousins aside.

“She wanted you to have some special things of hers,” he said, his voice still hushed from the somber atmosphere of the funeral home. Uncle Denis had been appointed the executor of his mother’s will and had spent most of the last few months at Babushka’s side.

Dmitry received Dedushka’s watch, which Babushka had held onto for decades. Her letter read, “so that you will never take your time for granted.” They all had to laugh at that, as Dmitry couldn’t arrive on time if his life depended on it.

Katya was given Babushka’s pearl bracelet because it was “almost as precious as you.” She immediately slipped it on, and Viktor’s eyes lingered on it as Uncle Denis finally got to him.

Babushka had, of course, left him her piano. “So that you will always carry the gift of music into your home.”

Later on, after the funeral and the condolences and the reading of the will and the estate sale, Viktor sat down at the piano. Mom and Dad had brought it home and placed it in the front room, right in the sunlight.

His hand found Middle C, and the clear note that rang out was a hollow replacement for what he’d lost.

 

When Katya and her skating partner made their pairs debut, she begged Viktor to arrange the music for the free skate. He used his connections at the Ariel to record a fairytale-like interpretation of Chopin’s _Spring Waltz_ , one of Babushka’s favorite songs. To go along with it, Katya wore their grandmother’s bracelet for the competition.

“It was like having her with me,” she told Viktor later on. She and Danny hadn’t medaled, but she was pleased all the same. “And I think Mom cried when the music started.”

Viktor had cried while playing it, but he was glad that Katya was happy. He’d done the bulk of the arrangement on the baby grand, still perfectly tuned.

When he moved out of his parents’ home, he left the baby grand with them; there was no way he could fit it in his apartment. Maybe, one day, he’d have a house of his own to keep his grandmother’s gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ _Spring Waltz_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0hFZPvanMs)
> 
>  
> 
> [ _Prelude in E-Minor (op.28 no. 4)_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ef-4Bv5Ng0w)


	2. Vicchan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri navigates grocery shopping with a service dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by terrierlee, who wanted something with Vicchan.

Yuuri had to keep reminding himself that he had every right to take Vicchan with him to the grocery store. The little poodle was clad in his working service dog vest, and Yuuri settled him into the baby seat in his shopping cart. He didn’t need much, but Phichit had used the last of their eggs that morning so it was time to get the staples.

Fat-free milk, a dozen eggs, Special K breakfast bars, Gala apples, protein shakes, and a box of Nilla wafers found their way into the cart. Yuuri was debating cutting across the store for toothpaste when a store associate stepped up to him.

“Sir, I have to ask... is that a real dog?”

Yuuri flushed hotly and edged away. “He’s a working service dog, please...”

“Oh, don’t worry,” the worker reassured him. “We allow service dogs in the store. I just wanted to know... what kind of a dog is he?”

Yuuri relaxed slightly. “He’s a toy poodle,” he answered, scratching Vicchan’s head.

“He’s a very good boy!” the worker exclaimed. “You’re lucky to have such a good helper!”

“Yes, I am,” Yuuri agreed.

“Listen,” the worker leaned in and lowered her voice. “If anyone gives you trouble about him, you come to the front desk and ask for Karen. That’s me, I’m the shift manager, and I have a walkie-talkie on me.” She waggled it. “Do you need any help finding anything?”

Yuuri felt the blush creeping down his neck, but he did recognize that she was trying to help. “Thanks,” he said, mostly to get her to leave him alone.

She beamed at him and waved goodbye to Vicchan before gliding away, her ponytail bouncing as she walked.

“I can’t take you anywhere,” Yuuri said to Vicchan, who panted at him.

He managed to get his toothpaste without anyone else stopping him, and snagged a spot in line for the self-checkout machines. Vicchan waited patiently as he began to unload his cart, but then his phone began to buzz in his pocket.

Yuuri sighed and tugged it out to check.

Yuuko’s picture flashed on the screen, and Yuuri debated not answering before ultimately picking up. “Hey, can I call you back?” he asked, trying to hold the phone against his ear with his shoulder. “I’m at the checkout.”

“Yuuri. _Yuuri_.” Yuuko squeaked, her voice tinny over the line. “We're watching the Juniors competition and Viktor did more skating music! Letty Addams just finished her SP and I checked, her song was credited to Viktor Nikiforov!”

Yuuri fell silent. _Viktor composed music!_ “Really?” he asked, his voice cracking. “What was the song?”

“It was a jazz song, I think,” Yuuko answered, still excited. “I have the competition recorded, I’ll get Takeshi to pull it off the DVR. It was really cute!”

There were butterflies in his stomach as he thought about it. _Viktor’s doing jazz again!_ “I’d like to see it,” he said. “Save it for me?”

“Of course! I got to watch it live, it was fun!”

Phichit had been kind of salty because he was missing the short programs that day, but at least he’d get to watch all the free skates. Yuuri started scanning his stuff before someone in the line behind him could complain. “Can Phichit come too?”

“Of course! I’ll make popcorn!” Yuuko’s voice suddenly faded out, like she’d pulled the phone away from her face. Yuuri heard the sound of a baby crying, far off. “Oh, one of the triplets woke up. I’ve gotta--”

“Don’t worry, go take care of her,” he said. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Sure! See you!” Yuuko hung up, and Yuuri put his phone back to sleep so he could slip it back into his pocket. He went back to scanning his purchases, excitement thrumming like electricity under his skin.

Once his groceries were packed in his reusable bags and the eggs were secured, Yuuri paid and cleared out of the self-checkout lane. He waited until he was outside to pick Vicchan up out of the cart and set him down on the sidewalk, hefting his grocery bags up onto his shoulder. “C’mon, Vicchan,” he said, gently tugging the leash, and Vicchan bound alongside him as he set off towards his and Phichit’s apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set the year before _Saltwater Melodies_ kicks off, so Yuuri is nineteen-going-on-twenty.


	3. Makkachin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did Viktor get Makkachin?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for tbiris's prompt, "first pets".
> 
> Viktor starts off in a depressive state but gets better.

Two weeks into his return home, with his parents tiptoeing around him, Viktor was miserable. Georgi was working, his former classmates were spread across the country, Chris was busy with school and being a responsible student, and everyone else that Viktor knew was even younger. Besides, he really didn’t think it was fair to burden everyone with his issues. So he just stayed in his room, sleeping and avoiding human contact, and not really doing much.

It was quiet. So quiet. He wasn’t sure if he liked that or not.

Viktor was rolled up in a blanket burrito, the shades were drawn and the room musty with stale-tasting air, when his mother burst into his bedroom one morning.

“Okay,” she said loudly, ripping the curtains open and pulling the shades up. “We’re going out today. I have something that I need your help with, and I only trust you on this.”

“What,” Viktor rasped, curling up tighter under the covers. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Oh no,” Mom said, pulling the covers off of him, “that’s too bad, because this is a very important errand that we need to run, and also you are _not_ sliding back into your old habits.”

Viktor winced. He was supposed to be getting better, but... he wasn’t. “Mom, I’m sor--”

“Don’t apologize,” Mom immediately cut him off. “Just get up, take a shower, and put on some clean clothes. Sweetheart, please. I have toast downstairs, that’s all I need you to eat. Darling. Vitya.”

Viktor sighed, but Mom didn’t move, so he wormed his way out of his cocoon and pushed his hair out of his face. It was getting rather long again, and he was definitely due for a trim.

Mom immediately hugged him as soon as he’d rolled out of bed, and he felt his entire body relax as she literally cuddled him in the middle of his bedroom rug. He let his head fall onto her shoulder, and she patted his back.

“There’s my sweet boy,” she said softly, and he felt tears spring to his eyes. “I love you so much, Vitya.”

They stood there for a moment longer, and then she let him shuffle down the hall to the bathroom for his shower.

 

Once in the car, Mom refused to answer Viktor’s questions about where they were headed. She just shushed him and turned on the local pop radio station. Imagine Dragons’ _It’s Time_ filled the sedan, and Mom hummed along to it.

Viktor rested his forehead on the window and watched as the city flashed by.

_I don’t ever wanna let you down, I don’t ever wanna leave this town--_

Viktor glanced at his mom, who was watching the road with a tiny smile on her face.

“So,” he finally said, slouching under his seatbelt. “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?”

“We’re picking something up.”

“Ooookay,” Viktor drummed his fingers on the car door. “What exactly are we picking up?”

“A surprise.”

Viktor narrowed his eyes at Mom, who continued to hum along to the radio. “What kind of surprise?”

“The best kind!” Mom answered cheerfully. “A secret!”

“Mom.”

“Vitya.”

“Mom, what are we doing?”

“You’re asking me questions that you know I won’t answer,” Mom said. “I’m driving.”

Viktor let his head fall back to rest against the window. “If this is some kind of shenanigan I’m jumping out of the car.”

“Childproof locks~!” Mom sang out.

“I’m calling for help.”

“You’ll like it, I promise.”

 

They pulled up in front of an unassuming house in the neighborhood surrounding Costa Mesa, and it smelled like big money. Viktor warily climbed out of the car, and Mom locked it as soon as he shut the door before shoving her keys into her black hole of a purse. “Shall we?” she asked cheerily, weaving her arm through Viktor’s.

“Shall we _what_?” he asked again, and Mom grinned at him. “Mom. Mom what is this. Mom.”

She tugged him along in lieu of an answer.

The house had a nice solid oak front door with a handmade sign hanging from the wreath fixture. It read _knock please! do not ring doorbell!_

Viktor was starting to feel very uneasy, and he gave his mother another odd look as she rapped softly on the door with her knuckles.

There was a shuffling noise behind the door, and the sound of a dog barking, and then a sweet-faced young woman of Asian descent opened the door and smiled. “Hi! Are you Mrs. Nikiforov?”

“That’s me!” Mom answered brightly.

“Awesome! My mom’s a bit busy in the office but she’ll finish up in a minute, and she said to take you into the back so you can meet them!”

“Meet _who_?” Viktor demanded, but Mom was already dragging him along behind the young woman.

The young woman opened up a baby gate and ushered them through, and Viktor was immediately swarmed by a bunch of curly-haired dogs.

“What the--”

“Say hi, Vitya!” Mom said excitedly, crouching down to let one of the poodles smell her face. “Ahh, I love poodles!”

“Yeah, my family has had poodles forever,” the young woman agreed. “They’re the best!”

“How many do you have?” Viktor asked in confusion as one of the smaller ones pawed at his leg.

“Thirteen, but that’s just because of the puppies.”

“P-puppies?”

“Yep!” The young woman closed the baby gate and gestured at the couch situated in the sitting room. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Uh.” Viktor looked at his mother, who was still getting pounced on by poodles. “I’m fine...?”

“I’m all right, thank you!” Mom added, finally standing back up. “Oh my gosh they’re all so cute, which one is the mama?”

“She’s with the puppies, over in the playpen,” the young woman pointed it out. “Go take a look!”

“Mom.” Viktor said again, but Mom chivvied him along to the back. She cooed when they caught sight of the playpen, where a mass of wriggling puppies were rolling and playing on the puzzle mats. Viktor did have to admit that they were pretty cute, but when he looked at his mom he couldn’t find it in him to be enthusiastic.

“That’s Heidi,” their hostess said, and Viktor caught sight of the brownish full-size poodle snoozing to the side atop a bed of blankets and towels. “She had a litter of seven puppies about two months ago, and they’re all eating solid foods now.”

Heidi’s head popped up and she eyed the visitors before laying back down again with a sigh.

“Mom,” Viktor said again.

“Oh, Vitya, aren’t they cute?” Mom pushed him forward. “Can he get in there and meet them?”

“Sure, as soon as my mother comes out. She usually handles this stuff.” The young woman leaned against the kitchen counter and typed something on her phone. “You okay with waiting?”

“Sure!” Mom said cheerfully.

“Mom, seriously, what is this?” Viktor demanded in Russian, gesturing at the puppies in the playpen.

“We’re gonna get you a dog, honey,” Mom answered likewise, just like Viktor figured she would.

He blanched. “Mom. I can barely take care of myself, what makes you think I can take care of a dog?”

“Well.” Mom tapped a finger to her lips, smiling slyly. “I figure - and your father agrees - that having a dog will be an incentive for you to get out and about more often. Plus, you’ll have a friend who will always be available to cuddle and play with you. And Seline at work swore up and down that dogs help with emotional downswings.”

“Oh, well,” Viktor said sarcastically. “If _Seline_ says.”

“She’s the school psychologist, Viktor.”

“She’s a child psychologist.”

“You’re still my child,” Mom countered, crossing her arms and pouting.

Viktor closed his eyes. “Mom, I’m... grateful? For the thought. But I really don’t need a dog.”

“Then think of this as a gift,” Mom said, giving him her no-shit smile. “Come on, sweetheart, most kids would be over the moon to be getting a dog for free.”

“I mean, most kids haven’t gone to rehab by age twenty,” Viktor pointed out.

Mom’s face went stony, and Viktor realized he’d hit a nerve. “No, don’t start,” he said quickly. “It’s not on you.”

Mom shook her head and looked away. Great. _Nice going, Vitya._

Viktor sighed and looked back at the puppies, who were yipping and tumbling excitedly in the playpen. He caught sight of one curled up against the dam’s side and squinted. The puppy looked awfully small.

“Hi!” a new voice trilled out, and the young woman’s mother emerged from the hallway, fluffing her hair. “I’m so sorry, conference call ran long. You must be Mrs. Nikiforov and Viktor, it’s nice to meet you!”

Mom put on her “meeting the parents” smile and shook the woman’s proffered hand. “Hi there, you’re Siera?”

“Yes! I see you met Noelle, did she get you drinks?”

“She offered, but we’re okay,” Mom said. “You have a lot of lovely dogs.”

Siera beamed. “Yes, we do love our dogs.”

“Pretty sure she loves the dogs more than she loves me,” Noelle added cheekily, and Siera rolled her eyes.

“Don’t lie. At least three of them sleep on her bed every night,” she stage-whispered as an aside, making Mom snort.

“Mmhm,” Noelle said, raising her eyebrows. “I’m gonna go do homework, do you need me?”

Siera dismissed her daughter, who scooped up one of the smaller poodles and disappeared up the stairs. “So, did you get to meet Heidi?”

Viktor looked at his mother, who stared right back at him. “No, not yet.”

“All right, let’s introduce you.”

Siera led him into the playpen, where the puppies swarmed his feet and softly yipped for attention. Their soft little bodies tugged at his heartstrings, but then the mother dog was getting up and softly padding over to him, her long tail swishing.

“She likes you,” Siera said as Heidi headbutted him on the thigh. “That’s her seal of approval.”

Viktor rubbed between the poodle’s fluffy ears. “She’s a sweetheart,” he admitted as she rubbed her head on his pants. “Are all the puppies going to be her size?”

“Yes, the sire is also a standard,” Siera answered, smiling. “The pups will be high energy and athletic, just like Mom and Dad.”

“So that means I’ll have to exercise?” he said, giving Mom a meaningful look. She shrugged.

“Oh, yes, definitely. Well, okay,” Siera made a face as she reconsidered her point. “Sometimes you get one that’s a couch potato, but most poodles need a daily walk and lots of playtime.”

Viktor nodded absently.

“Go ahead and meet the puppies,” Siera said, closing the baby gate. “You can get a feel for which one you’d like to take home.”

“I don’t know...” Viktor hesitated, and then was startled into laughter when one of the pups tugged on his pant leg with its little teeth. “Awh,” he said, squatting down and getting bowled over. “Okay, this is a good way to die,” he said as he fell onto his back, covered in wriggling furry bodies.

Siera laughed and hung back with Heidi as Viktor played a little with each puppy until he noticed one who kept getting pushed aside and knocked back. “Oh,” he said, scooping the pup up. “Hello there.”

“Ah, she’s the runt of the litter,” Siera said. “We’ve had to hand feed her occasionally, but she’s a trooper. She does well with one-on-one attention.”

The little puppy settled against Viktor’s collarbone with a little sigh and nosed at the underside of his chin. “You’re so little,” he said in a babytalk voice. “How can you be so little?”

The puppy nipped at his chin and he snorted. “Fiesty, too,” he said, looking down at her.

“Oh, do you like her?” Siera asked.

“I like them all,” Mom offered.

“We’re not taking them all,” Viktor said immediately.

Mom whined but she was grinning at him.

“You’re adorable,” he told the puppy in his arms as her siblings returned to playing around his ankles and bothering their mother. “You are absolutely adorable and you have puppy breath.”

The puppy licked his nose and then laid her head on his shoulder.

“I... I think I’ll take her?” He looked at Siera, who nodded encouragingly. “I mean, unless I shouldn’t?”

“Well, you’ll have to put her on a special diet for a little bit and keep an eye on her weight, but there’s no reason you shouldn’t adopt her,” Siera said. “I always say go with your heart when it comes to picking a puppy.”

The puppy in his arms yawned and settled against his chest, wriggling right into his long-neglected heart. “I think I can do that.”

 

“So,” Mom said as they pulled out of Siera’s neighborhood with the newest addition to their family and one of Heidi’s blankets. “What did I say?”

“I’m a sucker for a sweet face, you know that,” Viktor complained as his new dog snoozed on his chest. He leaned his seat back so she could lay on him.

“You get that from your father,” Mom snorted. “Anyway. What are you going to name her?”

“Hmm, something cute to match her face,” Viktor mused, stroking down the puppy’s back.

“Curly? Brownie? Ellie?”

“I was thinking something original,” Viktor said, pursing his lips. “Something that no one else would have named their dog, so that she’ll hear me and know I’m talking to her.”

“Well, you’d best decide so you can start training her. I’ve signed us up for obedience classes and puppy preschool at the pet store, we start in a week.”

Viktor shot his mom a narrow-eyed look. “You knew I’d walk out with a dog, didn’t you?”

Mom chuckled. “Like you said, you’re a sucker for a sweet face.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place when Viktor is 20 years old, early on in the year (so about 4 years before _Saltwater Melodies_.) Super inspired by gabapple's [_Vitya Diaries_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11799600) which is **excellent** and adorable and I love it so hard.


	4. Cousins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Zombie-Viktor time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terrierlee, Em, and Maja asked for "Zombie Viktor", "playtime", and more of Viktor's baby cousin Anita.

Viktor’s dad pulled the rental car up to the curb outside Nanna’s home outside Detroit, and Viktor noted th _e_ lack of cars in the street. “Nobody’s here yet?”

“Tom and Gail are still on the road,” Mom said, checking her phone. “Everyone else is leaving now. They’ll be trickling in after maybe an hour.”

“Mmmkay,” Viktor said, as Makkachin excitedly twirled next to him in the backseat. “So it’s the calm before the storm.”

“Pretty much,” Dad agreed, chuckling. He turned off the engine and unlocked the door so they all could pile out of the car.

Mom popped the trunk open so they could grab their luggage, and Viktor clipped Makkachin’s leash to her collar before they trooped into the old house.

Before they could even get up to the porch, the front door slammed open, and Makkachin yipped in excitement.

“What’re you doing out there on the lawn?” Nanna yelled, poking her head out onto the porch. “I cleaned the house for you! Get in here, you’re letting the heat in!”

“Ma!” Mom shouted back. “Close the damn door!”

“I’mma lock you out with it,” Nanna grumbled, shuffling back into the house.

Viktor bit back a laugh and hefted his duffel bag, keeping his grip on Makkachin’s leash. Dad locked up the car and they all made their way up the driveway, Viktor holding Makkachin back before the poodle could bowl over his seventy-year-old grandmother.

“Good Lord in Heaven,” Nanna said as she let them into the air-conditioned house. “Have you gotten _taller_? Do you ever stop growing? Get down here.” She tugged Viktor into a hug and smacked a big kiss on his forehead. “Stop growing, baby. I’m not gonna be able to do that no more if you keep that up.”

“I’ll stop just for you, Nanna,” Viktor agreed.

“Good boy. Oh! You brought the sweetie!” Nanna immediately switched her attention to Makkachin, who was waiting patiently at Viktor’s feet for her turn. “Hello, puppy dog! Hello~!”

Makkachin was overjoyed and happily accepted all of the cooing and babytalk, her tail whacking Viktor’s shins as he kept her from jumping up and knocking Nanna back.

“Oh, yeah, forget about your _daughter_ right here,” Mom grumbled, but then Nanna grabbed her and Dad into another hug. “How you doing, Ma?”

“Better, now that you’re all here,” Nanna said. “Go ahead and take your stuff upstairs to your rooms, I need help with setting the picnic tables outside.”

“Makka, upstairs,” Viktor sent the poodle up to the second floor before he took his mother’s bags from her. “You’re going in the rose room, right?”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Mom smiled at him before chivvying Nanna back into the kitchen. “C’mon, Ma, what do you need?”

“Looks like we’re already working,” Dad sighed as he followed Viktor upstairs, heaving the suitcase. “A working vacation. Good grief.”

“I hope Uncle Tony cooks the brats,” Viktor muttered, and Dad groaned.

“Quick. We gotta keep your mother away from the grill.”

 

Nanna’s backyard was thankfully fenced in, and Viktor let Makkachin loose while he and his parents cleared off the patio furniture and dragged the collapsible tables from the garage. They’d barely managed to get the plastic tablecloths down and snacks set out before the gate at the side of the house opened and they heard squeals of joy.

“Ah, the little Anya,” Dad said as Viktor’s three-year-old cousin rounded the side of the house, screaming elatedly. “I guess they were closer than we’d thought.”

“WITYA!!”

“Annie-banannie!” Viktor caught Anita and hoisted her up into the air, making her squeal. “Gah, you got bigger!”

“Up!” she giggled. “Up, up!”

“You _are_ up, missy,” Viktor said, settling Anita on his hip. “Where’s your brother?”

And then Ty ran past, pants already discarded and his mother chasing him in exasperation. “Hi, Viktor!” Aunt Iesha yelled before she attempted to tackle her son, who was trying to open the other gate and run out into the front yard.

“Wow,” Dad said, and Viktor echoed him. “He hasn’t changed at all.”

“Ani, I hope you keep your clothes on for me today,” Viktor told the three-year-old in his arms, and Anita giggled again. “You will, you’re a good squash.”

“Imma banana!” Anita protested.

“ _Squash_ ~!” Viktor sang out, swinging her around. “A banana-squash!”

“Wityaaaaaaaaa!”

“Hey, Viktor, buddy,” Uncle Tony raised a hand for Viktor to high-five. “How’s it going?”

“Nothing’s on fire yet,” Viktor said.

“Oh, excellent. C’mon, Nita, let’s go say hi to Nanna.”

“Witya,” Anita whined, but when Viktor set her down on the grass she went willingly with her dad into the house.

“You know,” Mom said from the porch swing, her lips curling into an amused smile. “You know what’s coming.”

Viktor sighed. “I know.”

“Zombie Viktor.”

“Yep.”

“Oh boy,” said Aunt Iesha, who was still trying to wrangle Ty back into his shorts. “Viktor, you don’t have to--”

“But I do,” Viktor said, planting his hands on his hips. “How much longer will they all be this little?”

Aunt Iesha looked down at her squirming son and deadpanned, “too much longer.”

Dad snorted and collapsed onto the swing next to Mom. “Enjoy them while they’re young, Iesha. This one here doesn’t visit us anymore.”

“ _I was literally at your house last week helping you mow the lawn_ ,” Viktor groused, rubbing behind Makkachin’s ears as his dog pressed against his leg for attention.

Aunt Iesha finally managed to get the wiggly five-year-old’s pants buttoned and let him loose. Ty immediately threw his arms around Makkachin’s neck and buried his face in her coat. “Makkaaaaaaaaa!”

Makkachin’s tail thumped on the grass as she covered Ty’s face with slobbery kisses. Over to the side, Ty’s mother flopped over onto the grass and groaned.

“Makkaaaaaaa!” Anita screamed, dashing back outside and hugging the poodle.

Viktor left Makkachin to her adoring fans and retreated inside out of the sun for some water.

“Viktor, you ready to be my sous chef today?” Uncle Tony asked, taking the pan full of bratwursts from a stubborn Nanna. “Ma, seriously, we can cook these, you relax.”

“I’m sixty-eight, not _dead_ ,” Nanna sniffed. “And Viktor’s on vacation, don’t make him cook.”

“It’s better than having Manda cook,” Tony pointed out, and Viktor stifled a snort in his hand.

Instead, he said, “Nanna, I can help before the other kids get here.”

Nanna sighed. “You better not spend the whole afternoon cooking, got it?” She patted Viktor’s chest and shuffled past him to dig around in the fridge. “None of you ever learned how to stop working on a Sunday, good Lord.”

Uncle Tony actually did snort and squeezed past Viktor to nudge the back door open and disappear outside with the brats.

“And what’s this I hear about you spending all your time at the school instead of out with friends?” Nanna demanded as she pulled a pitcher from the depths of her fridge.

“I was working with students,” Viktor said, humoring her. “Some of their parents _make_ them keep up their lessons over the summer.”

“Lord, what happened to letting kids be kids?” Nanna tutted and set out the pitcher on the countertop. “Same with Leticia, always training and training--”

"Nanna, she’s getting ready for her final season in Juniors,” Viktor pointed out. “Her senior debut is a huge deal.”

“Oh, I know,” Nanna replied, rubbing her forehead. “But she needs more than a few days here and there, how else is she gonna get to grow up?”

Viktor sighed. “I think she’ll probably have a lot to say if she needs to,” he said carefully. “And I know Aunt Gail has been pretty good about scaling down practices when Letty needs them.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Nanna sighed. “Maybe I’m just a worried old lady and I need to stop. But I raised all my kids just fine.”

“Letty’s going to show up here and be a delight, and you’ll wonder why you ever worried,” Viktor said, making Nanna laugh. “Do you need me to take anything else outside?”

“Just yourself, and get yourself something to drink. It’s hot outside, sweetheart.”

Viktor obligingly grabbed a water from the fridge and let himself be shepherded back into the yard.

While he’d been inside, his cousins Toby, Coco, and Freya had arrived with their mother.

“Hey! Viktor’s here!” Toby yelled, and then latched himself around Viktor’s ankle with a roar.

“Oh no,” Viktor said dramatically. “I’ve got an octopus on my leg. Help.” Then Coco jumped at him, and he managed to catch her before anything unfortunate happened. “ _Ah_ , Coco-nut. Okay, you guys, chill out for a second--”

“ZOMBIE VIKTOR!” Freya screamed, running away.

“Too soon,” Viktor tried to say, but Coco and Toby also began to yell and ran away.

“Sorry,” Aunt Mathilda said, wincing. “I tried to talk to them on the way over.”

“Go get them, Zombie Viktor!” Mom called from the swing.

“Zombie Viktor needs to hydrate before he eats any brains,” Viktor shot back, downing half his water bottle in one go. He then spent a good half hour chasing the five kids around the yard in variations of the zombie shuffle while the parents watched with amusement from the patio. Makkachin was of no particular help to either side and eventually flopped down in the shade from the trees next to the fence.

The next cousin to arrive was Leticia, and she was old enough to not really have any interest in playing Zombie Viktor anymore. Viktor gave her a pleading look and she joined the fray anyway, becoming Zombie Letty and evening the odds a little.

“Okay, time for all zombies to take a break!” Aunt Iesha announced, catching Ty before he could take off his pants again. “Give your cousins a breather, kids.”

Viktor found himself facedown in the grass, unwilling to move. “Ugh.”

“Now _that’s_ a zombie mood,” Letty agreed, sitting down next to him with a water bottle. “Hey. Hey. Viktor.”

“No.”

“Viktor.”

“No.”

“Viiiiiiiiktoooooooorrrrr.”

He rolled over and glared at her. “What.”

“When are you going to do my senior debut music?” Letty demanded, grinning.

“When you senior debut,” Viktor answered flatly. “Ugh. I’m gonna die.”

Letty eyed her water bottle.

“Don’t you dare.”

Letty’s eyes twinkled.

Viktor narrowed his own eyes at her. “If you dump that on me, I’m not composing a single song for you ever again. _Ever.”_

“Fine,” Letty giggled. “But don’t die before you do.”

“Ugh, I wish Nanna still had the pool,” Viktor groaned, rolling onto his back. “I can’t believe how hot it gets up here.”

“Pfft, yeah,” Letty sighed, rolling her shoulders. “A pool’d be nice.”

They both looked up as the gate opened again and Makkachin ran to greet the final three cousins to arrive with Uncle Ray. Benjy and Shawn were teenagers and Kaysee was ten, but she still eyed Viktor and smiled wickedly.

“Zombie Viktor?” she asked sweetly, and the younger kids all screamed.

“Oh boy,” Letty said, edging away, and that was all the warning Viktor got before he got dogpiled by five cousins and one actual dog.

“Vacation,” he managed to gasp. “Yep. That’s what this is.”

“Yep,” Letty agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during the summer leading up to _Saltwater Melodies_.


	5. Childhood Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's space campaign time at the Nishigori house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For terrierlee's prompt about the Nishigoris.

Takeshi opened the door to the Nishigori family townhome and let Yuuri in, one of the triplets snoozing on his shoulder. “Thank God you’re here,” he said, sounding haggard. “We can’t do this alone.”

“Phichit’s been on for hours,” Yuuri pointed out, blinking as Takeshi handed him the sleeping toddler. “What–”

“Shh!” Takeshi clapped a hand over Yuuri’s mouth, eyes wide. “Don’t wake her up!”

Yuuri made a face at him and glanced down at the triplet in his arms. Judging by the pink onesie, he was holding Loop. “How long has it been since you last slept?” Yuuri asked in a hushed voice.

“Too long,” Takeshi moaned, ushering Yuuri in and shutting the door behind Vicchan, who was waiting patiently for Yuuri to give him a command. “Yuuri, what day is it?”

“Wednesday,” Yuuri said in confusion. “Nishigori–”

“I need you to… I need you to help keep things quiet, please,” his old friend begged, and Yuuri couldn’t help but notice the prominent bags under his eyes. “All three of the girls have been having nightmares and Yuuko sleeps through it all, I don’t know how she does it–”

“ _Takeshi!”_ Yuuko’s voice hissed from upstairs. “Is Yuuri here?”

Yuuri eyed Takeshi, who looked ready to fall over. “How about you just… take a nap down here?” he suggested slowly. “On the couch. Sound good?”

“Thank you,” Takeshi whispered, collapsing on the nearest sofa. “Thank you, thank you, _thank you_.”

Yuuri carefully readjusted Loop against his shoulder and headed upstairs, clicking his tongue to get Vicchan to follow.

“Yuuri!” Yuuko greeted him as he let himself into the playroom-slash-den. “Where’s Takeshi?”

“Sleeping, probably,” Yuuri said, laying Loop down on the playmat where her sisters were also dozing. The toddler continued to sleep, unperturbed by all the movement, as Yuuri joined Yuuko on the couch. “Nightmares, huh?”

“Takeshi says they wake him up screaming every night but I’m not hearing it,” Yuuko said, shrugging. She handed Yuuri the extra controller and turned the volume on the monitor down low.

Yuuri took a moment to take off Vicchan’s working vest and set him on the floor. The toy poodle curled up near the triplets and sighed in contentment, which made Yuuri laugh.

“He’ll come and get me if they start waking up,” he said to Yuuko. “Phichit’s already on, let’s go.”

“Cool,” Yuuko said, booting up the gaming computer. “I haven’t had the chance to murder space marines in _weeks_. Takeshi’s gonna be sorry he missed out on this.”

They settled in for what ended up being an afternoon of intense galactic wars with only one interruption when one of the triplets woke up, and Yuuri ended up fighting off a legion of space marines with little Axel on his lap. Takeshi slept through everything.

All in all, a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during the summer leading up to _Saltwater Melodies_.


	6. Dog Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri takes Vicchan to the dog park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for terrierlee's prompt about Makkachin and Vicchan.

Yuuri unlatched the gate to the dog park and let Vicchan and himself in, making sure to close it behind him so that the other dogs in the park couldn’t get out. Then, he carefully pulled the harness and service dog vest off the toy poodle and patted him on the head. “Go wild, buddy,” he said softly, and Vicchan took off.

Yuuri sighed and slipped his headphones on, flicking the Bluetooth on his phone, and shuffled over to an empty bench. He heard the beep that signaled his headphones had connected, and then Cyndi Lauper started singing in his ears.

_Well, I see him every night in tight blue jeans / in the pages of Blue Boy magazine–_

Yuuri immediately blushed skipped to the next song from the album, which happened to be _All Through the Night_ , and that was substantially less embarrassing.

He settled on the bench and looked up, easily finding Vicchan among the other dogs in the park. Vicchan had made friends with a few of the larger dogs and was chasing them around the tree.

As Yuuri watched, a rabbit suddenly tore across the park and the dogs snapped to attention, taking off after it.

Yuuri chuckled and went back to his phone, firing off a text to Yuuko about goofing around online that night. He was interrupted by a friendly snoot nudging his hand. “Oh,” he said to the standard-sized poodle who was investigating him. “Hello there, you’re pretty cute.”

The poodle wagged her tail at him and flopped over to show her belly, panting excitedly.

“Aw,” Yuuri cooed. “What a sweetie.” He bent over to rub her tummy, and her back leg waggled. That made him laugh.

As if summoned by his master’s laughter, or else a sixth sense that warned him of when Yuuri was paying attention to another dog, Vicchan bounded over to reclaim his territory. He sniffed the bigger dog, who looked like she could be his larger sibling, and she sniffed him back, rolling onto her front so she could properly investigate him.

Vicchan managed to sniff the other poodle’s butt and decided that this dog was okay, and he crouched to play. The larger poodle immediately took off with Vicchan giving chase, and Yuuri only barely to get a decent picture of them before they ran away. He sent it off to the group chat that included Yuuko, Phichit, Takeshi, and Seung Gil before he turned on his music again and relaxed once more.

The sun was starting to set when Yuuri’s stomach growled and he realized he’d been at the dog park for much longer than he’d originally intended. He whistled for Vicchan, who stopped playing with his new best friend and immediately ran back to Yuuri. The other poodle followed along and watched as Yuuri put Vicchan’s vest back on and re-harnessed him, making sure the leash was securely attached.

The other dog seemed to realize her new friend was leaving and she whined, pushing her head into Yuuri’s thigh and giving him some excellent sad puppydog eyes.

“I’m sorry, puppy,” Yuuri said to the poodle. “Maybe we’ll run into you again?” He patted her on the head and she whined again. “You stay,” Yuuri ordered, only a little surprised when she obeyed as he let himself and Vicchan out of the park. “Bye, puppy!” he called as he and Vicchan set out towards home.

When he glanced over his shoulder, he was in fact _very_ shocked to see a tall figure with very familiar silver hair clipping a leash to the standard poodle’s collar. “Vicchan,” Yuuri said dazedly. “You made friends with Viktor Nikiforov’s dog.”

Vicchan panted excitedly at him, and Yuuri spent the rest of the walk home arguing with himself over whether or not he should ever go to that park ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri Katsuki is a Cyndi Lauper fan and you can't convince me otherwise. Oh, this takes place the year before _Saltwater Melodies_


	7. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Homecoming season at Neptune High School.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for terrierlee's prompt about Mila and Yurio.

“Do you think it’s worth it to put my name into the raffle?” Mila asked, eyeing the ticket booth across the cafeteria and munching on the fifty-cent churro from the snack bar. “I mean, I don’t give a shit about football, but it’s the _Homecoming_ game.”

“The fuck do I care?” Yuri grumbled, carefully blocking his cell phone from the lunch monitor’s view.

Mila glanced at it and raised her eyebrows. “Candy Crush?”

“Shut up, I’m on level 176.”

“Ooooooh.”

Beka wiped at his mouth and looked up at the ticket booth. “I’ll put a ticket in and you put a ticket in. If I win, I’ll give it to you.”

“You don’t want to go to the Homecoming game?” Leo asked, stirring his yogurt.

“Not really a football guy,” Beka said. “I prefer the winter sports.”

“Nerd,” Yuri piped up, not even looking away from his game.

Beka snorted and nudged Yuri’s arm, making him make a bad swipe. “Oops. Sorry.”

“You jerk!” Yuri blew a raspberry at the older boy, who actually laughed at him. Mila was still in awe that Beka could get Yura to goof around like that, but she certainly wasn’t going to call attention to it and make Yura retreat back into his prickly shell.

“Well, I actually wanna go,” Leo said. “I’m putting my name in, and if I win then I’m keeping the ticket.”

“Fine,” Mila answered. “May the best nerd win.”

“Don’t you have to pay to enter?” Ivy asked, making a face. “What’s the point if you have to pay?”

“It’s a dollar,” Leo pointed out. “Tickets cost fifteen bucks, Homecoming tickets cost twenty. It’s a steal.”

“ _If_ you win,” Lucy said.

“Yeah, there’s only, like–” Ivy counted on her fingers, “–six hundred students at this school, I’m sure the odds of you winning a ticket are _great_.”

“One, they’re auctioning five off. It can’t hurt if we try. Two, the charity is a nice cause.” Leo pushed his yogurt aside and climbed off of the cafeteria bench. “Mila, Otabek, you coming?”

“Yeah, one sec,” Mila said, digging in her purse for her wallet.

“Yura, you want to try?” Beka asked.

“Nah,” Yuri shook his head, going back to his game. “I probably can’t go anyway.”

Beka shrugged, and the three of them picked their way across the lunchroom to get in line at the ticket booth.

“You both got a dollar?” Leo asked.

“What, you looking to bum one off me?” Mila raised her eyebrows and hefted her wallet.

“Nah, just making sure.” Leo winked.

Mila snorted and glanced at Beka. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” Beka answered.

“So what about the dance?” Leo pointed to the poster advertising tickets for the Homecoming Dance in a week. “It’s our senior year. We should all go in a big group, live it up. Maybe we can pool our money for a limo.”

“Save the limo for Prom,” Mila said, shaking her head. “Unless you want to pay for that one by yourself?”

“Hell no, I ain’t that rich,” Leo laughed.

“I don’t know if I’ll go.” Beka shrugged. “Parties aren’t my scene.”

“You gotta at least go to _Prom_ ,” Leo said, eyes widening.

Beka shook his head. “Nah.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Mila added. “I mean, god, can you imagine how expensive it’s gonna be?”

“But it’s _Prom_ ,” Leo insisted.

“You gonna ask me to it?” Mila challenged him, hands on hips.

Leo made an exaggerated face, and Mila slugged him on the arm. “Ow! God, you punch like a dude,” he whined.

Mila rolled her eyes.

“Hey,” Leo said, sneaking a glance over his shoulder at their table. “You think Yuri would want to go to Homecoming? You’d come along if he did, right?”

Beka sighed. “Sure,” he admitted. “Someone’s got to keep him out of fights.”

Mila giggled, and then they were at the counter where the helpful PTA volunteer took their money and filled out their raffle tickets, giving them the stubs to hold onto for the drawing.

“Well, it’s worth a shot,” Leo said as they were heading back to their table. “It would be fun to go in a group. Think about it?”

“Maybe,” Mila answered, and Beka shrugged again.

 

Yuri couldn’t go to Homecoming, so he and Beka ended up staying in that night. Mila went with the rest of their friends and took plenty of Snaps for posterity, but when Prom rolled around she ended up skipping that along with the boys.

Dances were pretty overrated, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during Mila's senior year in high school, the school year before _Saltwater Melodies_.


	8. Februrary 14th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris's seventeenth birthday is his best one ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Valentine's Day along with Chris's birthday.

On his seventeenth birthday, Christophe Giacometti woke up with one thought in mind.

_Today’s the day._

He silenced his phone’s alarm and rolled out of bed, fully awake, before he grabbed his clothes off the back of his desk chair.

He was already dressed in his usual uniform of a thrifted Abercrombie t-shirt and cargo pants when his mother knocked on his bedroom door and poked her head in.

“Happy Birthday, darling,” she said, smiling brightly and edging the door open so she could enter fully, bearing a little cupcake with pink frosting and red heart sprinkles. There was already a lit candle stuck in the center, and Mom moved carefully so she didn’t accidentally snuff the flame out.

Chris grinned back at her. “Oh, wow, I _forgot_ \--”

Mom snorted and kissed his forehead. “Like fun you did.” She pushed the cupcake at him. “Go on, sweetheart. Make a wish.”

Chris looked at the candle, and one thought popped into his mind: _I wish to get away with this._

He blew out his candle and happily indulged in the allowance of dessert for breakfast before grabbing his school bag and sunglasses. His family lived close enough to Neptune High that he could walk every day without a need for a ride, and he was depending on that routine for camouflage.

Half an hour later, he was on a bus headed south towards the Deveroux Navy Base, his entire body thrumming with excitement at skipping class.

Valentine’s Day was a day for lovers, typically. Chris, however, decided to spend that special day - and his birthday - fighting the good fight; reports were starting to pile up of whales being affected by the Navy’s prototype sonar equipment, and the most recent beaching of a baby whale had made up Chris’s mind for him. The minute he caught word of the massive protest outside of the base, he _knew_ he had to be there.

Even if it was in the middle of a school day.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

 **Viktor:** so are you still skipping

 **Chris:** on the bus now

 **Viktor:** I can’t believe you’re doing this

 **Chris:** I can’t either!!!

 **Viktor:** I hope you don’t get arrested

 **Viktor:** I’m not bailing you out of prison

 **Chris:** no worries I have a plan

 **Viktor:** and yet I worry

Chris snorted and shoved his phone into his bag, instead withdrawing the bandana he’d borrowed from his mother and the baseball cap his grandfather had given him after the last trip to New York.

It wasn’t much of a disguise, but it would be enough. That, plus the fact that he’d called school and impersonated his father so he could excuse himself from school, was going to be how he got away with everything.

Chris had never been to the Navy base before, but he had GPS and Facebook to guide him. Once he got off at his stop, he quickly figured out where the protest was building.

And oh _dang_ was it a protest. There had to be a few dozen people already there, standing by the gate with handmade signs and shouting at the cars driving past. One girl was dancing near the street wearing a sandwich board that read “HONK FOR NO MORE DEAD WHALES” and very little else - basically the legal minimum of clothes. Chris had to give her props as she managed to get a chorus of car horns with every wiggle.

He slipped his ballcap on and tied the bandana around the bottom of his face. He was _ready_.

Ten minutes later, someone had handed him a sign that proclaimed “UNITED STATES NAVY: COMPLICIT IN EXTINCTION” - oh, dear, he should have brought his own - and someone else was leading a chant. He threw himself into it, hopping along with the sandwich board girl and bellowing at the top of his lungs.

“ _No more dead whales! No more dead whales! No more dead whales!_ ”

It was a good morning.

Eventually, of course, fuckin’ PETA had to show up.

_Fuckin’. PETA._

How had they even found out? Chris gagged behind his bandana at the topless woman who had strutted out with nothing covering her unmentionables except for a grass hula skirt ( _what even?_ ) while waving a banner proclaiming fishing to be a crime against nature. Other idiotic slogans were hollered as well - really, was this time to be bringing up overfishing? Chris was all for working against the commercial fishing industry but _this protest was about Navy sonar fucking with migrating whales_ \- and then more women started losing their shirts. The sandwich board girl literally facepalmed next to him in embarrassment. “Hey, kid,” she yelled over the general din. “Someone’s probably called the police, it’s time to scram.”

“What?” Chris asked incredulously. “But we’ve only been at this a couple hours--”

Then the sirens started.

Chris dropped his sign and began to edge away from the crowd of topless women, and a cry rang out as one of them threw something liquid and distinctly red into the air, splashing down on the bunch of them and the uniformed officer who had walked up in order to try and talk the protesters back into their shirts.

_Oh shit._

Chris turned heel and ran as pandemonium broke out, the legit protesters peeling away as the PETA people began chant about fishing again.

“Hey!”

Someone snagged his arm and tugged. “Hey, c’mon!”

Chris went.

The guy who grabbed him led the way down the street at a breakneck pace, and turned around to yank the bandana off Chris’s face as more cop cars began to whizz past. “Too obvious!” he yelled, tossing the bandana away.

Chris nodded, eyes wide, and they rounded a corner that took them down a familiar path towards the state park. There were tons of tourists dotting the trail, and the other guy didn’t let go of Chris’s wrist as they merged in with the crowd. They emerged from the other side of tourists, sweaty and breathless.

“You alright?” the guy asked, looking at Chris with a concerned expression.

Chris forgot how to speak. _Holy shit._

The guy was _h-o-t_ as _fuck_ , with shaggy brown hair that flopped over his face and framed his cheekbones in a hipster-yet-not-hipster way. He had nice, angular features and managed to be taller than Chris (which was a feat only accomplished by Viktor and a few male members of the Giacometti clan) with deliciously broad shoulders and gorgeous grey-blue eyes.

His savior frowned. “D… are you okay?”

“Fantastic,” Chris gasped, remembering how to breathe. “Uh. How’re you.”

_Smooth, Christophe._

His savior smiled. “I’m alright, thanks. Kind of pissed, to be honest.”

“Yeah, fuckin’ PETA, right?”

The other guy laughed. “Right. Exactly.”

Chris felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I-I’m Chris.” He stuck out a hand, not caring at all about how awkward he must look. “It-- I mean, this was my first big protest--”

“I would never have guessed,” the guy answered, smiling warmly and shaking his hand. “Are you part of the Lucía Bay Marine Conservation group?”

“Uh, no,” Chris admitted. “I just saw the protest on Facebook and… I wanted to come.”

“This one was kind of slap-dash,” his savior said. “We’ve got a big thing planned later on this month, and we’re going to take it all the way to the state level if we have to.”

“Cool!” Chris exclaimed, eyes wide. “Are you going to storm Congress?”

The guy grinned. “If we have to,” he repeated.

And that was the moment Chris fell _in love_.

 

“I can’t believe you did it,” Viktor said in disbelief.

Chris giggled and rolled over on his bed, tangled up in his earbuds and nearly tugging the jack from his phone. “I can’t believe it either,” he admitted _sotto voce_. “I don’t think they suspect anything, and my friends got all my notes for me, so I’m set. _And._ ”

“And you went and found a date while you were at it,” Viktor grumbled. “You weren’t even looking!”

“That’s how it goes, isn’t it?” Chris said dreamily. “Oh, cheer up, Vitya dear. Besides my birthday, it’s a lovely day for romance, right?”

Viktor was silent.

“Right?” Chris pressed. “Viktor? What about your date with Ian?”

Viktor made a soft noise that sounded like “he cancelled” before he coughed.

“Excuse me?” Chris sat up, dragging his phone along with him. “He _cancelled_ on you?!”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t put out on a first date,” Viktor said flatly. “Doesn’t matter, I wasn’t all that into him anyway. He thinks that Adam Levine is still relevant. I’m thinking of taking a break from dating, too. Maybe that’s what the universe intended, a dry spell for me so you can find your _one true environmentalist love_ ,” he added in a Valley Girl voice.

Chris knew Viktor Nikiforov well enough now to not press on what was clearly a sore issue, even though he _really_ wanted to. So he closed his eyes and flopped back against his pillows. “He’s… _super_ hot, okay,” he said instead. “And he’s going to go to school to be a _marine biologist_.”

“Dreamy.”

“Oh, but he _is_! He’s at Hanon, he’s a senior, and he _surfs_.”

“It’s like God made him for you,” Viktor said, and he sounded enthusiastic. “Did you get his number?”

“We’ve been texting all afternoon,” Chris sighed again. “He skipped class too.”

“Oh boy.” Viktor snorted. “This better not lead to a married life of crime for you two.”

“Pah, no way. Next time, it’s a weekend thing.” Chris’s phone buzzed with an incoming text, and he felt a goofy smile steal across his face. “Oh! He just texted me! Oh my god.” He thumbed the text open: it was a link to a news article online, and he tapped it open. “Oh my _god_. The local paper got wind of the PETA people crashing the protest.”

“Oh _god_.”

“Looks like the person who threw red paint is in custody for assaulting an officer - _of course_ \- and everyone else got released.”

“ _White people_ ,” Viktor grumbled.

Chris paused. “Viktor. We’re both white as fuck.”

“Not _that_ kind of white.”

“Touché.” He quickly tapped out a response to the text.

“So do I need to chaperone you two?” Viktor teased, but he sounded tired.

“Nah,” Chris said instantly. “Much like you, I also do not put out on a first date.” He waggled his eyebrows, even though Viktor couldn’t see it. “Are you doing okay otherwise?”

“Yeah, mostly.”

“Seriously?”

“ _Yes_ , geez.” Viktor sighed. “God, you’re worse than my parents.”

“They don’t want to push you back into rehab,” Chris said flatly. “But I know you too well to buy this ‘fine’ act.”

“If I’m not fine now, I will be. C’mon, tell me more about your charming fish nerd.” Viktor was definitely fronting like a madman now, but at least he admitted he wasn’t completely fine. Chris decided to let it drop.

“You’d like him,” he finally said. “You’d approve. Viktor. _Viktor_. I think it’s love.”

“Awh,” his best friend cooed, and the affection was genuine. “That’d be nice, wouldn’t it.”

“Happy Valenbirth to meeeee,” Chris sang out, closing his eyes and picturing it. “Yeah, I’m calling it. This guy is The One.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in marriage.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t stay with him long-term,” Chris pointed out.

“True.” Viktor made the noise that he usually made when he was doing the lip-tapping thing. “Well, if you do renege on that stance, I want to be best man.”

“I will take you up on that,” Chris declared as his phone buzzed again. He checked it and immediately blushed.

 

_Happy birthday ♥ - M_

 

 _Yes,_ Chris decided as he screenshotted the text. _This birthday was the best one **ever**._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place about 4 years before _Saltwater Melodies_ , after Viktor adopted Makkachin.


	9. March 1st

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Yuri's fifteenth birthday!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Yuri's birthday on March 1st.

Yuri managed to make it to school unscathed, but the minute he arrived in the orchestra room to stow his violin, someone pounced on him and shoved something onto his head.

“ _Ge’offme!_ ” he shouted, thrashing, and Mila giggled as she let him go. He fumbled at the top of his head, snatching the stupid plastic birthday crown off and pulling his hair out of the little comb bits. “What the fuck, Baba?”

“Happy birthday, Yura!” Mila cheered, hopping from one foot to the other. “I didn’t know what to get you so I figured I’d crown you King for a day.”

Yuri sneered at her and tossed the crown away. “I don’t want anyone making a big deal out of this,” he grumbled, locking up his violin and snatching up his bookbag.

“Aww, why you gotta be such a brat?” Mila whined, but Yuri brushed past her and made for the door.

She caught up to him in the hallway, following along out of the fine arts wing with a pout.

“Don’t you dare,” he said, glaring at the redhead as she twirled the crown on her wrist. “Seriously.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Mila grumbled, sticking the crown on her own head. “You’re so hard to party with.”

“Excuse me,” Yuri rolled his eyes. “What a hardship.”

“Is it so bad that I want to celebrate with you?” Mila demanded, hands on hips. “I don’t get you at all.”

“Good,” Yuri shot back at her.

Mila threw her hands up in the air and they parted ways as Yuri ducked into a stairwell.

Homeroom first, and Mrs. Amor caught him before the bell rang and slipped him a bar of chocolate. “Happy birthday, Yuri,” she said quietly, before shepherding him to his usual seat.

He didn’t get a chance to respond before the bell rang, and he slipped the candy into his bag as intercom crackled with Mrs. Geddes call to the Pledge and the daily announcements. Last year, his birthday had fallen on a weekend, so the only people in school who knew about the day’s significance were his friends. Guang-hong, Leo, and Kenjirou all knew he didn’t want to make a big deal of it - they had run a Starfate Prime campaign the previous night and he’d mentioned it in between launches.

After announcements were over, Mrs. Amor declared the rest of homeroom a study period. Yuri’d already finished his homework for that day, so he laid his head down on his desk and sighed.

“Would you like a book to occupy your time, Yuri?” Mrs. Amor asked, wagging her eyebrows when he looked up at her.

Yuri shook his head.

“A magazine, perhaps?”

“No, thanks,” he mumbled, letting his head thud back down onto the desk.

“I would let you turn on your phone but that goes against the school’s code of conduct, so I suppose you’ll have to find something to do for the next fifteen minutes that doesn’t involve electronics.” Mrs. Amor laughed. “But no napping!”

Yuri groaned.

“Suckup,” he heard Tiffany whisper behind him. Anabelle giggled.

He didn’t bother to call them out, even if Mrs. Amor had a low tolerance for bullying in her class. Instead, he closed his eyes and drummed his fingers on the desk.

The rest of homeroom crawled by, and when the bell rang he couldn’t escape fast enough. His next class was algebra, and of course, it was _boring_ , but at least Anabelle and Tiffany weren’t in it with him.

They were, however, in fourth period gym. But luckily, so was Beka.

Yuri was so glad that students in sophomore year and onward were able to pick the P.E. units they would be in for the quarter, and he’d intentionally followed Beka into the soccer class. They were both bad at it but it was better than being in the volleyball class with other kids in his grade.

“So,” Beka said as they paired up to do dribbling and passing drills. “It’s a special day.”

“Yeah, it’s a Wednesday,” Yuri answered, giving Beka a _look_.

Beka sighed. “Nothing planned?”

“Probably not.” Yuri tugged at the hem of his gym shirt and winced. They’d only been outside for ten minutes and already he was sweating up a storm. “Mom and Dad are busy, and Dedushka will probably be asleep when I get home.”

“So… do you want to go home right away?”

Yuri almost missed the pass and scrambled to catch it. “Honestly? I probably should. School night.”

Beka nodded. “That’s responsible of you,” he said in a voice that anyone else would have said was normal. Yuri, however, had known Beka long enough to tell when he was teasing.

Yuri kicked the ball back at the older boy. “I mean, you could probably come over and hang out if you wanted.”

“Oh?” Beka caught the pass and eyed him, keeping the ball under his shoe instead of passing it back. “Your parents wouldn’t have a problem with it?”

Yuri shrugged. “My parents work late. Dedushka likes you. Do you need to go home right away after school?”

“Not really.”

“Cool.”

Beka actually smiled at him. “Cool.”

Then the coach in charge of soccer walked by and they went back to passing, and then the class was split into teams for scrimmage until the end of the period.

Once they were released back into the locker room, Yuri took advantage of his smaller stature to get to the showers and wash off all of the sweat and grass stains.

Orchestra was next, and it was just a single period today. Other than Mila, everybody that Yuri could stand hanging out with had orchestra with him. Miss Atkinson wished him a happy birthday when he arrived for class, hair still damp, and retrieved his violin.

“It’s your _birthday_ ,” Annabelle said flatly as he took his seat, flipping his binder of sheet music open.

Yuri gave her a dry look and checked the tuning on his violin.

“So that’s why everyone’s treating you like you’re hot shit?” Annabelle pressed, kicking the seat in front of her. The girl sitting in front of her yelped.

“No one’s treating me like hot shit,” Yuri grumbled. “Piss off.”

Kenjirou sat down in the third chair, and the senior in second chair followed soon after, and suddenly Yuri had a buffer between him and a huffy Annabelle. The bell rang, and Miss Atkinson called for their attention to start warm-ups.

The big piece that the orchestra was working on for the Spring Showcase was an arrangement of Karl Jenkins’ _Palladio_ , and they spent the reduced period working on it until the bell rang.

For the free period, Yuri ended up in one of the designated spots in the hallway where kids who didn’t have class could hang out and talk louder than they could in the library. He was joined by Leo, Guang-hong, Kenjirou, and Beka, and they spread out along the wall with their textbooks and note binders to knock out their homework before the end of the day.

There was some idle conversation about stuff like TV shows and pop culture scandals, but for the most part the guys were all quiet until the bell rang again, and then it was time for lunch.

“So,” Guang-hong said as they packed back up and headed to the cafeteria. “Anybody up for the arcade after school?”

“I’m in,” Leo offered immediately. “I’ll drive.”

“Pass,” Yuri said, making a face. “My mom would want me to go home after school.”

“Dude, it’d just be for a couple hours,” Kenjirou frowned. “Does your mom want you to go all _Shining_ on everyone?”

“ _What_?”

“You know, _The Shining_ ,” Kenjirou grinned, hefting his bookbag up on his shoulder. “‘All work and no play makes Yuri Plisetsky a dull boy.’”

“ _What?_ ” Yuri repeated.

“‘No beer and no TV make Homer something-something,’” Leo added, snorting.

Yuri caught on. “Ohh. _Ohh._ ”

“Go _crazy_?” Guang-hong piped up.

“ _Don’t mind if I do!”_ Yuri cut in, and the others burst into laughter. “Seriously, though, I’ll be free on the weekend.”

“Right, it’s just.” Guang-hong rubbed his eyes. “Dude, even my parents don’t ride me this hard about my after school life.”

Yuri shrugged. “I mean, I’m trying to keep my grades up.”

“Your grades are fine,” Beka said, speaking up for the first time since orchestra.

“Yeah but I want to keep them like that.”

“That’s fine,” Kenjirou cut in. “Totally understandable, dude. How about we all meet up online and try to take Team Blue down?”

“Sounds good to me,” Guang-hong said, and the others agreed.

“So when will you be doing birthday stuff?” Leo nudged Yuri, who shrugged.

“Probably this weekend, I think.”

“We should throw a mini-party at the arcade,” Leo suggested as they pushed the door to the cafeteria open and shuffled through. “Maybe hit the boardwalk or something.”

Yuri shrugged again. “Maybe.”

“Look, we are _celebrating_ your birthday,” Kenjirou declared. “Even if we just buy you lunch at the cafe.”

“Kenji just wants to go visit his crush,” Guang-hong sniggered, and Kenjirou turned bright red.

“ _Hey!_ ”

Beka caught Yuri’s eye as they snagged a lunch table and leaned in. “Port me in and I’ll be your backup on Starfate,” he said.

“Gotcha.”

 

Hours later, as Yuri and Beka lounged on Yuri’s bed and took turns trying to bum rush Team Blue’s stronghold as Potya did her best to distract them, Yuri’s mom poked her head into the room.

“Oh, Otabek.”

Beka nodded from his perch at the foot of the bed as Yuri continued to play, ignoring Kenjirou’s yelling over the speakers.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Yuri’s mom went on, pushing the door all the way open.

“I sent you a text message,” Yuri said distractedly.

“I didn’t get a text.”

“I texted Dad too,” Yuri added. He’d been careful to cover his ass.

Mom made a frustrated noise. “Yura, it’s a school night.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Plisetsky,” Beka said politely. “I’ll head home before eight.”

“What about your homework?” Mom pressed.

“Did it all during the free period,” Yuri answered. He groaned as his character was shot down by one of Team Blue’s snipers. “Guys, I’m down.”

“We will avenge you!” Leo called, and Yuri snorted before muting the computer.

“Yuri,” Mom said, and Yuri looked at her.

She looked annoyed, like he’d done something awful. Which he _hadn’t_.

“Mom,” he sighed, rolling over on his bed. “I promise. It’s my _birthday_. _Mom_.”

Mom sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You’d better not be lying to me.”

“I’m not,” Yuri insisted as Beka wisely remained quiet. “Mom. Have I ever skipped homework?”

“Fine,” Mom finally conceded. She stepped back into the hallway and pointed at the door. “This stays open, understand?”

“ _Mom!_ ” Yuri yelped, blushing, but she was already walking away.

“Don’t worry about it,” Beka said. “Also, we lost the campaign.”

Yuri swore in Russian and Beka snorted.

“Your turn,” Yuri grumbled, thrusting the controller in Beka’s face. He flipped the volume back on, but at a lower level than before, as the mission restarted.

 

An hour later, Dad knocked on the doorframe and said “Dinner!”

Yuri signed off, and he and Beka followed Yuri’s dad downstairs.

“I made beef,” Mom announced as they reached the kitchen. “Yura, take some salad. Don’t give me that look.”

Yuri rolled his eyes but accepted the salad bowl that Beka was nudging at him, and after they’d all served themselves, they settled around the table.

“Beka, it’s nice of you to join us,” Dedushka said in Russian, and Beka nodded.

“I’m glad to be here,” he answered in English, for Mom’s benefit.

“Things going well? Are you starting to hear back from colleges yet?” Dad asked.

Beka shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I got into Anderson, so I should be all right.”

“Good, good,” Dedushka said. “No good, leaving state. Yes?”

“I don’t think I could afford to leave the state,” Beka laughed. “But I wouldn’t want to, anyway.”

“I don’t know about that,” Mom said, taking a sip of her wine. “Plenty of good schools in the Midwest. I went to one.”

“I’m sure they’re great, but I couldn’t afford the trip out there,” Beka admitted. “And all my friends and family are around here. I’d get homesick.”

“Fair enough,” Dad said. “And of course the Ariel’s music program is still in the top five nationwide.”

“Got another Grammy,” Yuri muttered.

“Right,” Dad said, beaming. “We picked such a good area, didn’t we.”

Mom mumbled something but was all smiles when Yuri looked up at her. “Eat your salad, Yura.”

Yuri speared a tomato on his fork and shoved it into his mouth in response.

The rest of dinner was less awkward, and as they started to clean up, Dedushka caught Yuri’s arm and tugged him back to the table. “Happy birthday, Yurochka,” he said, sliding a cupcake on a plate in front of him. “I picked this up on the way home from work,” he added in Russian.

“Candle!” Mom called, swooping in with a single birthday candle. She pulled a lighter out from behind the candles on the counter and lit the one on the cupcake. “Should we sing?”

“Please don’t,” Yuri begged, but Dad started to clap.

“ _For he’s a jolly good fellow!_ ”

Mom and Beka joined in, Beka nudging Yuri as the mortified birthday boy buried his face in his hands.

“ _For he’s a jolly good fellow, for he’s a jolly good fel-lowww! Which nobody can deny!_ ”

“Make wish, Yurochka,” Dedushka said, patting Yuri’s shoulder.

Yuri sighed, but eyed the tiny flame and thought, _I want this year to be exciting._ He blew out the candle, and everyone clapped.

“You want eat now?” Dedushka asked as Mom plucked the candle off the cupcake and whisked it away to clean it off for re-use.

Yuri considered it, then shook his head. “Maybe later,” he said, pushing the plate away. He still hugged his grandfather in thanks.

“You boys going to play more video games?” Dad asked as Yuri was pushing in his chair and preparing to go back upstairs with Beka.

“Probably, yeah,” Yuri said.

“Another hour or so, okay?” Mom called, and Yuri sighed.

“Fine,” he agreed, and Beka added, “No problem, Mrs. Plisetsky. Thanks for letting me have dinner with you.”

Mom waved them off, and Yuri practically dragged Beka back upstairs.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Beka said as they resettled on the bed and booted up the computer again.

“Meh.”

“I feel like I’m special,” Beka went on, rubbing Potya’s belly. “I got to spend your birthday dinner with your family.”

Yuri blushed but managed a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah, I guess.” He tossed Beka the controller and spun a little in his desk chair as Beka logged back in under Yuri’s gamertag.

“Another run?”

Yuri smiled. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during the school year before _Saltwater Melodies_ , after the Homecoming short.


	10. Cousins, part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor meets Anita for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Maja!

Viktor _knew_ , on a distant, disconnected level, that Aunt Iesha was trying to get pregnant again. He vaguely remembered hearing about it, after getting released from rehab, and then he was busy with Makkachin, and then Yakov took him on at the Ariel, and then the pregnancy announcement came, mid-September, right after Viktor moved out of his parents’ house into a tiny apartment located much closer to Anderson.

Months later, around mid-February, he suddenly remembered.

“Oh my god,” he said, Makkachin drooling on his leg. (She’d gotten a sudden growth spurt in the winter.) “Oh my god. Did Aunt Iesha have the baby yet? _How could I have forgotten about the baby?_ ”

“She hasn’t had the baby yet,” Mom quickly reassured him. “Baby’s still on the way.”

“And she still hasn’t given us a name. Or the sex. Which makes shopping _impossible_ ,” Dad grumbled.

Mom rolled her eyes. “Boris. My _god_. We just get everything in yellow with animals on it. That’s gender neutral.”

“Why can’t boys wear pink?” Viktor wondered. “Pink is a nice color.”

“Some people have no taste,” Mom agreed. “You look good in pink.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Dad cut in. “No, the baby isn’t here yet.”

“At least I didn’t miss that,” Viktor said, only a little surly. Makkachin nudged his hand, and he buried his fingers in her curly fleece.

“Nobody blames you,” Mom said.

“Nanna would chancla them,” Dad added.

Viktor snorted, and Mom steered the conversation elsewhere so that the rest of the meal passed peacefully. Dad drove Viktor and Makkachin back to their new apartment, loaded down with enough leftovers to last Viktor a week.

A couple months after that, he was at work when he got the alert on Facebook.

_Tony and Iesha Addams had a baby girl!_

“Oh my god,” he said, making Yakov’s head snap up.

“What is it, dear?” Mrs. Stimler asked, frowning.

Viktor showed her his phone, practically vibrating with excitement. “I have another cousin!”

“ _Another_?!” Yakov repeated, but he still let Viktor shove his phone into his face. “Congratulations, I guess.”

“ _She’s so cute!_ ” Viktor moaned. “Oh my god. I’m going to need time off for her baptism--”

“I figured,” Yakov said, nodding. “We can find someone to cover for you while you’re away, just give me the dates.”

“You got it,” Viktor said, rapid-fire texting his mom. She responded in all caps.

“Oh, that’s so exciting!” Mrs. Stimler said, clapping her hands. “Congratulations, Viktor!”

Viktor smiled at her as his mom texted him again, once again in all caps. She’d gotten ahold of Uncle Tony, who had happily provided a tidal wave of baby pictures.

“She’s so tiny,” he whispered, clutching his phone.

A loud sniff right behind him made him jump, and he whirled around and just barely avoided knocking Lilia over. “Ah! Lilia! Sorry--”

Lilia plucked the phone from his hand and examined the photos. “She’s very cute,” she finally said. “You should take care not to spoil her too much.”

Viktor laughed, and Lilia rolled her eyes at him before brushing past him, gliding into her office like she was on skates.

“You’re already planning on spoiling that baby, aren’t you?” Yakov said from the water cooler.

Viktor grinned, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “No reason not to!”

“ _Oy vey_ ,” Yakov groaned before he too disappeared into his own office, leaving Viktor to his schemes in the waiting room.

-

Uncle Tony opened the door to his family home and immediately sighed when his eyes fell on his nephew. “Viktor. I hope you’re here for that freaking giraffe.”

“You got them a giraffe?” Mom asked as Uncle Tony ushered the three of them in. Viktor had left Makkachin at his parents’ home, under the care of the Bauers while he and his parents traveled out to Uncle Tony’s home in Plymouth, Michigan. Even though it was late spring, there was still a little nip in the air compared to what was he used to in SoCal.

“He sent us a four-foot-tall plush,” Uncle Tony confirmed. “Where did you even find it?!”

“Amazon,” Viktor answered, and he could hear his dad smothering his laughter. “Every household _needs_ a giant stuffed giraffe.”

“Viktor.” Mom literally facepalmed. “For the love of God.”

“I regret nothing~!” Viktor sang as he snagged his little cousin Ty by the collar. “Oh, hey, where are his pants at?”

“Oh, God,” Uncle Tony said in a weary, defeated tone. He shut the door behind them and ducked into the living room, presumably to search for Ty’s discarded pants and undies.

“Why do you not want to keep your pants on, little man?” Viktor asked the squealing two-year-old. “God, you’ve gotten even bigger!”

Ty grabbed onto Viktor’s nose and giggled.

“Hold him up for me,” Uncle Tony said, and quickly shoved his son into some toddler-sized khaki cargo shorts. “Not even gonna bother with underwear. This _kid_ , man.”

Mom snagged Ty from Viktor and peppered his little face with kisses. “I’m so happy to get to hold you! FaceTime isn’t the same as real life,” she added, and Viktor made a face at her.

“It works well enough for us,” he said, and then Uncle Tony shushed them all.

“You guys ready to meet Anita?” he asked as they heard the muffled sound of a door shutting upstairs. “You arrived just in time, Iesha’s waking her up now for feeding.”

“ _Babyyyyyy_ ,” Mom said softly, bouncing Ty on her hip. “You liking your baby sister?”

Ty made a face, and Mom and Dad both snorted.

“He’s not liking having to share the attention,” Uncle Tony said

“We can spoil him while we’re here,” Mom sang out, but trailed off when she saw Uncle Tony’s face. “What.”

“Oh, I don’t know, ask your _son_ ,” Uncle Tony said, making a face at Viktor.

Viktor beamed. “I sent Ty a T-rex,” he said proudly.

“ _Viktor_ ,” Dad said, rolling his eyes.

“How are you paying for this?” Mom demanded, putting Ty down so he could run around again. Out of the corner of his eye, Viktor noted that the toddler’s pants were starting to come off again.

“Christmas bonus. _What?_ What was I going to do with it?” Viktor planted his hands on his hips. “You two buy Makka enough presents to spoil her rotten, I don’t need to lift a finger.”

“That’s the _point_ ,” Mom grumbled, and then Aunt Iesha emerged from the stairwell, a little bundle of blankets in her arms.

“Oh, she’s _tiny_ ,” Dad said as a hush fell over them all.

“Just like her mama,” Uncle Tony said, grinning.

There was a bit of shuffling done as Aunt Iesha greeted them all before handing the baby off to Uncle Tony for feeding, and then they all trooped into the family room as Ty ran upstairs (freshly re-pantsed by his mother) to fetch his T-rex plush so he could show it off. Viktor made sure to give Ty attention while the baby was eating, oohing and aahing at his little cousin’s dinosaur collection. Mom and Dad chatted with Aunt Iesha and Uncle Tony about adjusting to their new-but-old schedule so that the baby was regularly feeding and getting changed, and then Mom got to hold little Anita once she’d finished most of the bottle Uncle Tony had warmed up.

“Oh, even her burps are cute,” Mom said, patting the baby girl’s back as Dad reached over and adjusted the spit-up towel draped over her shoulder. “God, I can’t get over how tiny she is.”

“Even Letty wasn’t that small, and Letty is basically a pixie,” Viktor piped up from the floor as Ty crawled into his lap with his triceratops.

“All the girls in my family tend to be really small,” Aunt Iesha said as Mom settled on the couch, cooing at the baby.

Viktor reflected on his aunt’s height - four feet, ten inches - and had to concede her point.

Mom got a good while to fawn over the baby as Viktor and eventually Dad got roped into the miniature Jurassic Park that Ty had going, all while the adults caught up on life. Uncle Tony and Aunt Iesha inquired after Viktor’s job and new apartment, and Mom and Dad got to dispense their workplace stories. Ty started to get cranky, and Uncle Tony scooped him up to settle him in his high chair for some lunch.

Mom raised her eyebrows at Viktor and nodded at the baby in her arms. “Wanna hold her?”

“Can I?” Viktor glanced at Aunt Iesha.

“Wash your hands real quick,” his aunt said, and chivvied him into the kitchen where Ty was throwing grapes on the ground and forcing Uncle Tony to fetch them before they got stepped on.

A few lemon-scented minutes later, Viktor found himself planted on the couch with a warm bundle in his arms. Anita was still awake, her dark eyes blinking up at him and crossing at times.

“You’re the sweetest little thing I ever saw,” Viktor whispered to her, and she made a tiny noise. “Don’t tell Cousin Letty I said that.”

Dad snorted at his side, and Viktor heard the sound of a camera shutter. He glanced up at his father, who had his phone pointed at him. “Seriously?”

“You should see your face,” Dad said, showing him the screen. Viktor is almost shocked at the soft expression that his father captured, bowed above the perfect sweep of the baby’s nose.

“Well, she’s adorable,” he finally said. “How could I not make that kind of face?”

Anita fussed a little, and Viktor easily settled into a gentle rocking motion until she was soothed. Her eyes started to droop shut, and Viktor felt something warm seep into his chest.

“I wonder if I was ever this tiny,” he said aloud, and his father fell silent. Viktor immediately mentally kicked himself and hurried to course-correct. “Doesn’t matter, does it?”

Dad sighed and patted Viktor’s shoulder. “Well. No matter what, you’re a big baby now.”

“What.” Viktor said flatly, shooting his dad a _look_.

Dad smirked at him and patted his shoulder one more time before levering himself to his feet and disappearing into the kitchen.

“Dad called me a big baby,” Viktor complained at his mother, who sniggered.

“You’ll always be my baby boy,” she answered, and Viktor sighed.

“Parents,” he said, looking back at the snoozing infant in his arms. “This is what we’re stuck with, Ani. Don’t worry, I'm here for you; we cousins gotta stick together.”

She yawned and turned her face into his arm, and he smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place the year after Viktor adopts Makkachin and Chris meets his boyfriend. Anita's birthday is in April!


	11. Otabek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek's POV of the final scene in chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original chapter can be found [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12155436/chapters/27933804)
> 
> This was written for terrierlee's prompt on [this ask meme!](http://linneakou.tumblr.com/post/176269289490/no-excuses-writing-meme-askbox-version)

If Otabek was being honest with himself, he’d admit that Yura was acting pretty weird. The younger teen had been tense, like he was expecting some kind of attack when he wasn’t looking. It was even more obvious when Yura began to relax as the afternoon rolled on and the a capella (the sock-apella) group got going on their set.

Otabek found himself breathing a sigh of relief. He’d heard all about the Islaluna debacle on Friday, and he could easily imagine that Mrs. Plisetsky was still probably pissed about it. Yura always got stressed out when his mom was in that kind of mood.

Eventually the sock-apella group finished up their set and thanked everyone for coming out while glaring at the frat guy who had yelled “Freebird” earlier. Otabek and Yura got up off the bench and headed back towards the city, or at least to catch a bus that would take them downtown. At least, that’s what Otabek thought that they’d do… until Yura bumped into a girl who hadn’t been looking where she was going.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” she gasped when she spilled her drink all over him. “Here, let me--”

Yura ripped himself away from the girl and turned on his heel before hauling ass across the park and rounding the cropping of trees that separated the sidewalk from the park proper. Otabek took off after him, calling his name.

“ _Yura!_ ”

He saw Yura yank the handicapped bathroom door open and stumble in, shutting the door behind him.

_What the hell--?_

Otabek skidded to a halt outside the bathrooms and strained to hear something-- _anything_ \-- from inside. He caught what sounded like Yura swearing up a storm. Was he hurt?

He pounded on the door. “Yura?”

“ _I’m fine!_ ” Yura immediately answered, his voice shrill with fear. Otabek’s concern only grew worse. “I’ll be out in a second!”

“Yura, what happened?” Otabek asked, knocking on the door again. It rattled a little. “Are you hurt?”

“I said I’m fine!”

And that was the tone that Yura tended to use when something happened at home that he was really unhappy about. That was the ‘I’m in trouble’ voice. “Yura, let me in.”

“ _NO!_ ”

Otabek rattled the handle, and found it unlocked.

“ _Don’t come in!_ ”

Otabek ignored the command and put his shoulder into shoving the door open. If Yura was hurt or something, he’d apologize later.

The bathroom was a few shades darker than the outdoors, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to…

_What the hell?!_

Yura had fallen onto his front on the grimy floor, and his entire lower body had been… _transformed_ … into a long fish’s tail. _Almost… like a…_

Yura slumped, his head falling onto his forearms. His torso was bare-- _where had his clothes gone?_ “Fuck,” he groaned.

Otabek realized his mouth had dropped open and he tried to get his brain back online. “Yuri, how…?”

“Please close the door so no one else sees me like this,” Yura said, his voice muffled by the tile. He sounded weary and at his wits' end.

Otabek immediately edged into the bathroom and made sure the door was securely closed and locked. “What in the world?” he asked, eyeing the massive orange-gold tail.

“I don’t know.”

Otabek breathed a soft sigh and lowered himself down into a squat at Yura’s side. “Where are your clothes?”

“Dunno,” Yura repeated dully.

Otabek barely stopped himself from reaching out to touch his friend on the shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“I’m not hurt,” Yura said with a slightly hysterical laugh.

Otabek carefully considered what he should say next, and Yura _finally_ looked up at him. “When did this start happening?” Otabek finally asked.

“Just Friday,” Yura said slowly.

 _Of course._ Otabek blinked as the pieces slowly fell into place. _The eclipse._

And _of course_ Yura had attempted to keep going on with his life while avoiding letting on that something _this big_ had happened. They lived in a beach town, for crying out loud! How many opportunities were there for him to accidentally get splashed _just like what had happened earlier?!_

Yura was a little touchy about it, so Otabek eased back and fought down his very real concern. Instead, he tried to think of ways to dry Yura off so they could get out of the gross bathroom. “May I?” he asked, waving his hand at Yura’s tail.

“Knock yourself out. This thing is such a pain in the ass on dry land.”

Otabek had a sudden vision of Yura in the water, and _dang_ but he wanted to see that. Instead of saying that, he offered his slightly sweaty t-shirt to use as a towel, but Yura fobbed him off.

“It actually dries off really fast in the sun,” he said.

Otabek made a face. “Well, that’s out of the question.” He could only imagine the pandemonium that would ensue if people realized that that tail was no prosthetic. As Yura grumbled about how quickly the day had turned badly, Otabek wracked his brain for ways he could somehow sneak Yura out of the bathroom, or else find a way to get some sort of towels in--

_HSSSSSSSSSS_

They both started in surprise as the hissing noise started up. “What the hell is that?” Otabek asked, looking around for the source. If it were a snake, things were about to get really bad--

“Wait. _Wait._ I think it’s… me?” Yura looked down at his tail and held a fist out over his lower body. Otabek blinked in surprise as he caught a puff of steam rising off the scales.

He reached out to poke it and withdrew it when it ended up being _very_ hot.

“I think I‘m doing this,” Yura said, sounding dazed.

“Again, _how?_ ”

“Magic?” Yura said, a little sarcastically. He brought his hand up his body, and the steam began to rise off his skin as well.

Otabek drew back as little twinkling lights suddenly swirled over his friend’s body, and then Yura was sitting on the floor, tail-free and fully clothed once again.

“Holy shit,” Otabek breathed. “Did you know you could do that?”

“Take a wild guess,” Yura said as he got to his feet, but he sounded excited. “I wonder if I can do it again.”

Otabek thought about it, and honestly? As weird as this all was, it was also… pretty cool. He met Yura’s gaze and raised his eyebrows. “Let’s find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still the Ota-BEST.


	12. Cousins, part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Viktor's 16th birthday. Katya introduces Letty to figure skating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAJA! (Forgive me for writing Christmastime in the middle of summer!)

Viktor was used to his cousins tugging on his waist-length hair. To his knowledge, he was the only one of Nanna’s grandchildren that had straight hair, not counting the honorary Addams cousins (other two Nikiforov kids) who had yet to arrive with his aunt and uncle.

Letty, eldest Addams granddaughter, tsk’d at him as he tried to move and turn his head. “Stoppit,” she chided him. “I’ll pull!”

“Please don’t,” Viktor said, wincing.

“I don’t wanna!” the six-year-old carefully finger-combed through the handful she had in her grasp and clumsily wove another tiny braid through it. “I don’t like it when Mommy pulls my hair,” she added, “so I won’t do it to you.”

“Thank you very much,” Viktor answered, smothering a laugh.

“This is _so cute_ ,” Ti-ti stage-whispered, and when Viktor looked at her out of the corner of his eye he saw the black lens of a handheld camcorder blocking his aunt’s face. “How’s the beauty treatment going, baby?”

“Oh, it’s going _great_ ,” Viktor flashed the thumbs up at the camera. “What do you think, Letty?”

“I think I need sparkle spray,” his cousin said in a very serious tone.

Viktor raised his eyebrows, and Ti-ti snorted.

“Oh, Vitya, you’re such a good cousin.”

“Happy Birthday to me,” he sang under his breath.

“It’s Jesus’s birthday,” Letty reminded him.

“Well, I’m the one with a cake.”

“There’s a _tree_.”

“We can have both,” Viktor said patiently.

Letty shrugged, making Ti-ti snort again.

After a few more lopsided braids, Viktor was released from Letty’s ministrations to go greet the most recent arrivals and steal some food from the kitchen. Nanna loudly complimented Letty’s handiwork and snuck Viktor some of the appetizers before chasing him away to socialize.

Outside, the streets were dusted with a light layer of snow - Viktor had been surprised upon landing in Detroit and being greeted with a pathetic dusting instead of the winter wonderland he’d been expecting. He usually enjoyed the snow during the rare holidays they spent in Michigan with Nanna and his other relatives. He’d even brought the cold weather gear that usually languished in the back of his closet (and had been forced to go buy a bigger coat thanks to his growth spurt over the summer) only to find that the powdery snow was absolutely the _worst_ for packing. The forecast was calling for more as the day went on, and they were definitely getting a White Christmas, but _still_. He’d gone four days thus far without lobbing a single snowball at anyone.

Uncle Tony and his latest girlfriend were cuddling in the living room, taking up the couch by the Christmas tree. Viktor had to marvel at how easily his uncle could get all goopy with the various women he dated - everyone kept telling him he’d get it any day now, but Viktor was starting to doubt it. It didn’t help that his classmates were equally soppy with each other; he was also starting to think there was something wrong with him.

(It also didn’t help that there weren’t a lot of gay guys at Hanon to begin with.)

Viktor ended up in the family room with baby Kaysee on his lap, ten-year-old Benjy and seven-year-old Shawn bickering over the TV remote. Letty draped herself over the couch arm with a book, and the boys settled on Cartoon Network.

There was commotion in the front hall, and then Katrina and Dmitry were shuffled in, still pink-faced from the wind and a little shy at meeting all the Addams for maybe the second or third time in their lives. Dmitry immediately fell in with the boys, and they retreated to the corner to get into some Yu-Gi-Oh battle, TV abandoned.

That left Viktor with the girls, and once Katya had warmed up to Letty she dashed off into the dining room, returning with her father’s cell phone. It took all of five minutes to get to the Blackberry’s photo library, and then Viktor and Letty were treated to grainy photos and videos of Katya’s most recent figure skating competition. Katya was almost old enough to start competing at the Juniors level, and she was excited to start doing tougher jumps.

Viktor, of course, oohed and aahed at her play-by-play recounting of her routine. At one point, Kaysee began to fuss; Viktor excused himself to hand her over to Aunt Mathilda for a potty break, and when he came back to the family room he found Letty and Katya poring over the photos of Katya’s costumes.

“They’re so pretty,” Letty whispered. “Like a fairy princess…”

“They’re the best part,” Katya agreed. “There are sparkles all over the top and even on the tights, too.”

Letty gasped, and then grabbed Katya’s wrist and dragged her out of the room. Viktor, sensing entertainment, drifted along after them and found the girls in the dining room with Letty’s parents.

Uncle Tom was watching with amusement as Katya proudly showed off her skating videos - Viktor heard Uncle Denis mutter “is that my phone? How did they get that?” somewhere behind the buffet table - and then Letty grabbed onto her father’s shirt and begged, “ _Please_ , I wanna go there!”

Aunt Gail aww’d as Uncle Tom made a face. “Go where, baby?”

Letty pointed at the Blackberry. “I wanna go there and dress up and do that!”

“You want to ice skate?” Aunt Gail asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, she’s already enrolled in dance,” Uncle Tom said.

“Did you do something?” Mom asked under her breath, and Viktor shook his head.

“Oh no, she came up with this all on her own.”

Uncle Denis reclaimed his cell phone, and Uncle Tom pulled him aside to chat by the window for a minute. Then Nanna announced that the appetizers were ready, and Viktor had to distract his mom from helping with the turkey.

Later on, after everyone had left for their lodgings for the night, his amused father reported that Uncle Tom had been persuaded to start Letty up in skating lessons. “Denis says he feels sorry for Tom and Gail, I guess it’s pretty expensive.”

“Well, if she ends up not being into it, they can always pull her out,” Mom said.

Viktor shrugged and put it aside. It wasn’t like it would affect him all that greatly.

 

(eight years later)

 

**VIKTOR MAKE US MUSIC**

**(3:44 PM) Letty:** you know what would be cool

 **(3:44 PM) Letty:** the wonder woman theme song

 **(3:44 PM) Viktor:** someone already made that

 **(3:45 PM) Letty:** viktor

 **(3:45 PM) Letty:** viktor

 **(3:45 PM) Letty:** viktor

 **(3:45 PM) Letty:** viktor

 **(3:45 PM) Letty:** viktor

 **(3:46 PM) Letty:** viktor

 **(3:46 PM) Katya:** viktor

 **(3:46 PM) Letty:** viktor

 **(3:46 PM) Viktor:** no

 **(3:46 PM) Letty:** viktor

 **(3:46 PM) Katya:** viktor

**(3:46 PM) _Viktor_** _left chat_

**(3:47 PM) Letty:** viktor

 **(3:47 PM) Letty:** omg add him back

**(3:48 PM) _Katya_** _added **Viktor**_

**(3:48 PM) Letty:** RUDE

 **(3:48 PM) Viktor:** IM AT WORK

 **(3:48 PM) Katya:** im at practice we all hav thigns to do vitya

 **(3:49 PM) Viktor:** so practice

 **(3:49 PM) Katya:** danny says hi

 **(3:50 PM) Letty:** HI DANN

 **(3:50 PM) Letty:** danny*

 **(3:50 PM) Viktor:** your coach is going to be mad put down your phone

 **(3:50 PM) Letty:** viktor

 **(3:50 PM) Viktor:** NO

 **(3:51 PM) Katya:** im taking a break vitya stop bein rude

 **(3:51 PM) Viktor:** I’m at work getting PAID for my living which i use to pay RENT please let me live

 **(3:52 PM) Katya:** so anyway this year the required short dance is a samba :eyes:

 **(3:52 PM) Letty:** :dance:

 **(3:52 PM) Viktor:** there are plenty of sambas out there and now my boss is giving me the look so BYE

 **(3:52 PM) Letty:** rude

 **(3:52 PM) Letty:** dont worry he gets off soon :D

 **(3:53 PM) Katya:** :D


	13. Cousins, part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day at the beach with the Addams-Nikiforov clan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Dasha (dyeingdoll on Tumblr) who wanted more cousins!
> 
> Thank you to Flei for looking it over for me!

It was _hot_.

Viktor stole Mom’s fan and leaned back against the cooler, trying to generate a little wind without going too fast and overheating from the effort. Mom let him have the fan for a moment before stealing it back, and the way she unfolded and fluttered it near her chest made her look like a Southern Belle, or a Regency lady. Viktor snorted at the thought.

“What are you laughing at?” Mom asked, narrowing her eyes.

“The thought of you as a Regency lady,” Viktor said, tilting his head back as a nice breeze came off the sea. It was a lovely day at the Neptune State Park, and since the weather was absolutely picturesque, that meant the tourists were out in force. The beach was absolutely packed, which made Viktor all the more thankful that they’d arrived super-early in the morning to stake their claim on a spot near the water. He and his mom were spending the whole day on the beach with Uncle Tom, Aunt Gail, Uncle Denis, and his cousins Leticia and Katrina. It was a nice little vacation for the girls, who had just finished up their school year.

Mom gently whacked him on the nose with her fan. “I’d make an awesome Regency lady.”

“Oh my god, you’d be a complete Lizzy Bennet.” Viktor batted the fan away.

“Does that make your dad Mr. Darcy?” Mom’s eyebrows went up.

Viktor leaned back against the cooler again and smiled. “If it makes you happy.”

Mom whacked him again and he laughed. Overhead, the tent that they’d used stakes to secure into the sand fluttered ominously in the wind.

They sat in peace for a while, and then Viktor heard giggling. He was a little drowsy, and only really half-awake, so he didn’t really pay any mind until there was a rush of sudden coldness.

“ _Gah!_ ”

Viktor sat up, heart racing, as he sputtered and spat out a mouthful of seawater. To his left, his mom was screeching with laughter. “What--” he gasped, and wiped the saltwater out of his eyes.

“You looked hot, Vitya,” Katya said with an angelic smile, while Letty doubled over with giggles next to her. They both were carrying buckets. “We just thought we’d cool you off.”

“Oh,” Viktor said, scrambling to his feet. “Oh, I see, I see.”

“AAH!” Letty yelled, grabbing Katya’s arm, and the two girls dropped their buckets and took off. Viktor gave chase, heedless of the merciless sun overhead, and used his height and longer legs to quickly overtake them. He managed to catch Katya, but she was getting too tall for him to hoist over his shoulder, and she was able to wiggle out of his grasp. Letty splashed him as a distraction, and he completely forgot he was up against two elite baby athletes when he lunged for his other cousin and she dodged. He faceplanted in the surf just as a big wave swept in.

Katya was screaming with laughter as the girls managed to turn him over before he could drown in the shallows.

“Got you super-super wet,” Letty said as Viktor sat up, coughing up the water. “Super got you.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Viktor said hoarsely, and Katya laughed even harder.

“ _Viktor!_ ” his mother’s voice drifted out to them. “ _You’re not wearing sunscreen!_ ”

“Dummy,” Katya said, splashing him again. “You’re gonna get so red.”

“And whose fault is that?” Viktor demanded as he got to his feet.

“Yours,” Letty said, and then screamed as Viktor snatched her up. _She_ was still short enough that he could heft her over his shoulder, and he hauled her up out of the surf with Katya trying to drag him back.

“If you tear off my trunks, it’s on you,” Viktor said, and Katya let go.

“Why’d you cut your hair?” Letty demanded, halfheartedly kicking.

“What, did you wanna pull it?” Viktor retorted. “Way to prove my point, Munchkin!”

“Come onnnnn!”

Viktor dumped Letty back into the ocean and she was off like a shot, running back into the surf with Katya.

Mom was still laughing when he retreated under the tent, making to sit on his abandoned towel. “Oh, I wouldn’t if I were you,” Mom said, pointing at the giant wet spot.

Viktor detoured to Aunt Gail’s empty seat and collapsed onto it, groaning.

“At least you’re not overheated anymore.”

“I spent more than a minute out of the shade,” Viktor said. “I’m going to burn.”

Mom sighed and patted his arm. “Worth it. Your cousins looked so happy.”

Viktor made a face at her. “You saw them coming and you didn’t stop them?”

“I was too busy protecting my book.”

“I feel betrayed.”

Mom snorted. “Don’t be. It’s a library book.”

Viktor rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll dry off.” Mom smirked and went back to her book.

Katya and Letty were now trying to bodyboard in the surf, and Viktor hoped they were being careful; both of them were going to be starting up their training in earnest again in about a month. Letty and her parents had just moved out to Portland for her mom’s job, and she’d found a coach up there who had been happy to take her on. Katya had switched over to ice dancing last season, and was going to be entering local competitions in Vancouver that year. Neither girl could afford any kind of injury so late in the off-season.

“I just had a thought,” Viktor said, and his mom made a little noise to confirm that she was listening. “What if we took the girls to the Blue Rose for a spa day this week? Dad could get the family discount, and everything.”

“That… why didn’t I think of that?” Mom shut her book, looking irritated. “Why didn’t anyone think of that? It’s so obvious--”

“We could do a spa day instead of a second beach day, and I won’t get dive-bombed. Hopefully,” Viktor amended.

Mom was already texting Dad, who was stuck at work. “They’ll find a way to prank you in the spa, sweetie. I guarantee it.”

Viktor sighed and cracked his neck. “Well, at least I’ll get a massage out of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viktor is 19 (and just recently cut his hair) Letty is 9, and Katya is 12! This is set before Babushka Nikiforova passed away.


	14. Cousins, part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flan and FaceTime!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Bedtime Stories server, because I love you all.
> 
> Thanks again to Flei for the beta!

An hour into the flan-making endeavor, Viktor was starting to think he might have bitten off more than he could chew.

“I’m going to shove Georgi’s face in this,” he grumbled as he checked the pan in the oven for like the fifth time. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking for, but he’d followed the instructions to a T and hadn’t noticed any major issues yet.

He’d kept the oven on a lower setting than recommended, because his oven tended to run hot for some reason, and there was another fifteen minutes left on the timer before he could pull the flan out and let it cool. He was only a little nervous, and he could hear his mother’s voice telling him that he was being too much of a perfectionist.

 _It’s just my first try_ , he reminded himself. He had plenty of extra ingredients, if this one didn’t go well then he could try again.

He was giving Makkachin a treat when his phone began to ring, and he blinked when he heard the FaceTime chime.

Makkachin snatched the treat from his hand and darted off to munch on it, and Viktor let her get away with it so he could answer. It was Aunt Iesha calling.

Viktor could already feel his lips curling into a smile as he swiped to answer. “Hi there,” he said, leaning against his countertop as Aunt Iesha’s face filled his phone screen. “Happy Sunday, what’s up?”

“Oh, not much,” his aunt said, and she sounded tired. “Ty has an ear infection, and we’re keeping him home from preschool while that’s clearing up.”

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that,” Viktor said, frowning. “How did that happen?”

“Well, we took the kids to Wisconsin Dells over spring break,” Aunt Iesha said. “I think that may have kickstarted it, or made it worse?”

“Yeowch,” Viktor winced in sympathy. “I’d send you flan, but I don’t think it would make it through the mail.”

“Flan?” Aunt Iesha said, blinking. “Where did flan come from?”

“Oh, that’s my project for the day,” Viktor said, flipping the camera to the back and turning on the oven light. He showed off the fruits of his labors. “Another ten minutes and I’ll see if I managed it.”

“Ooh, I kind of want to know how that works out.” Aunt Iesha raised her eyebrows. “If the recipe works, send it to me?”

“Sure,” Viktor flipped the camera back. “So.”

“So.”

“Where’s the banana girl?”

Aunt Iesha laughed. “She’s eating brunch and patiently waiting--”

“ _WITYA!!_ ”

Viktor snorted into his hand. “I see.”

“We made waffles today with Daddy’s waffle iron,” Aunt Iesha added, and she was moving around the kitchen until Viktor could see the window and the kitchen table, where Anita was in her booster seat, pushed all the way up to the table. There were two Ikea placemats set out in front of her - Viktor had been present when they were purchased, he remembered giving his very educated input on color schemes while Uncle Tony had tried to escape into the food court - and both placemats were covered in mauled waffle bits and various syrups. Anita’s face came into view, and she was absolutely covered in syrup from her nose down.

Viktor squeaked in delight. “Oh my god.”

“WITYA!” Anita yelled. “Imma waffle!”

“I can see that,” Viktor agreed, as Aunt Iesha lost it in the background. “Are you sure you have enough sugar?”

“‘S strawerry,” Anita informed him gravely.

“Ooooh, is it yummy?”

“Yeah!”

“We’re going to take a B-A-T-H after this,” Aunt Iesha added, and then carefully tugged her phone out of Anita’s reach. “No, baby, you’re too sticky.”

“Wityaaaaaa--”

“I can still see you, Ani,” Viktor reassured her. “Good grief, you look like you went swimming in strawberry syrup.”

Anita cheered.

“We go hard for the sugar in this house,” Aunt Iesha said, and Viktor caught sight of Ty in the periphery. The five-year-old looked miserable, and was clearly leaning his head to one side. _Poor little man_.

“Ani, promise me you’ll be nice to your brother while he’s sick?” he said, and Anita made a face. “You’re a good girl, right? You’re a good banana, you’ll be nice.”

Anita nodded and wiped her nose with a syrup-covered hand, smearing the stuff higher on her face. She sneezed.

“Bless you.”

“Ffanku,” Anita said, sniffling.

“So what are you going to do today?” Viktor asked, leaning against the counter again.

“It’s finally warming up again, and Anita is going to help Daddy in the garden,” Aunt Iesha said. Anita cheered.

“Whoa, Daddy’s doing what today?” Uncle Tony asked off-screen, and Aunt Iesha shot him A Look. “I thought we were going to put mulch down first.”

“We did mulch last year, Tones,” Aunt Iesha said, her eyebrows drawing together. “We only need to do mulch every other year.”

“This is why I like living in an apartment,” Viktor said in a stage-whisper, and Anita giggled.

“Wityaaaaa come over,” his little cousin begged.

“Oh, you want me to come over?” Viktor tapped his lips. “Hmmm. It would only take me, oh,” he consulted his nonexistent watch, “like, six or seven hours, Ani.”

“Come over!” Anita repeated, pulling an excellent set of puppydog eyes.

“Ani, I’ll be over there in the summer,” Viktor reminded her. “Remember, sweetie? I have to work tomorrow.”

“Boo,” Anita whined, and Aunt Iesha snickered.

“Well if I don’t go to work, Yakov will lose more hair,” Viktor said.

“Oh my god, has he lost more?” Uncle Tony asked, his face dipping into view. “Because he was half bald back at your parents’ wedding, I swear.”

“There are shenanigans with funding this year, and I get to hear all about it.” Viktor said.

“What?” Aunt Iesha made a face as Ani tried to grab the phone again. “But the conservatory’s literally the biggest moneymaker for the school!”

“Yep, but.” Viktor shrugged. “Yakov’s trying to sway a replacement for the speaker system in the auditoriums and the school’s like ‘but isn’t the one we have good enough?’ and… I guess? But it was installed in, like, 1995?”

“Yeah, time for an upgrade,” Uncle Tony agreed, and then Ty made a pained noise to the side. “Okay, I’m gonna give the little man some ear drops and we’re gonna go watch _PJ Masks_.”

“That sounds fun!” Viktor waved as Uncle Tony disappeared out of the frame.

“Wityaaaaaaaa,” Anita whined again.

“Yes, Anita Banana?”

“Witya come over!”

Viktor laughed. “I will, soon. I promise.”

“And make us some flan,” Aunt Iesha added.

“Speaking of which,” Viktor glanced at the timer on the oven. “It should be just about done, too.”

“Send us pics!” Aunt Iesha said, nudging Anita’s hand away from the phone again. “I’m gonna give this little gremlin a B-A-T-H now, so she doesn’t stick to everything.”

“Mamaaaaaaa!”

“Have fun with that!” Viktor waved and blew Anita a kiss, barely containing his laughter when she pouted at him. “I’ll talk to you soon, Ani.”

“Bye,” Anita said sullenly, and her mother waved as she hung up.

Viktor smiled and set his phone aside just as the timer began to beep. He switched off the oven and removed the pan of flan from the rack, setting it on the stove to cool. “What do you think, Makka?” he asked as he flipped the overhead fan on. “Do you think I succeeded?”

Makakchin rolled over next to the table, her tags clinking on the floor. She eyed the stovetop with interest, and Viktor quickly pushed the pan to the back burner. “Oh, no,” he told his dog. “Don’t you dare. I don’t nee you getting sick and throwing up on the rug again.”

Makkachin panted at him and laid down her head again.

Viktor busied himself with cleaning up the countertop and putting away the ingredients he’d used as the flan cooled. Once it was settled, he managed to plate it on a nice serving platter that his mom had given him when he’d moved out. The flan slid easily onto the platter, like a milky Jello, and the caramel was dripping almost artfully around it.

“Moment of truth,” he told Makkachin, who was watching again with her mouth hanging open. He carved himself out a little piece and popped it in his mouth.

The creaminess of the condensed milk with the sweetness of the caramel hit him suddenly, a little delayed after it landed on his tongue. It was light, and fairly fluffy in texture, but something was missing.

“Hm,” he said. _Maybe a fruit topping would help? I can use Mom and Dad as guinea pigs tonight._

Makkachin got up and pawed at his pant leg, and Viktor patted her head. “No,” he said. “This isn’t for you, Makka.” He put the serving dish back on the stove, placing the cover over the flan. “Let’s go outside for a break, hm?”

Makkachin dashed off into the living room, bounding onto the sofa and barking at him.

Viktor was about to grab her leash off the coat rack by the door, but he paused and pulled his phone out of his pocket again. He quickly lifted the cover off the flan and snapped a photo, making sure the image was clear, and sent it off to Aunt Iesha. _So far, it’s edible. Have fun in the bath!_

While he was out walking Makka, he got a response: a picture of Anita sulking in the bathtub, completely covered in suds, with a Snapchat caption: _we’re having such a good time today_.

Viktor smiled to himself and saved the photo to his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during the school year before the start of Saltwater Melodies, right before the summer starts!


	15. November 29th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A survey of four of Yuuri's birthdays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dollar late and a day short. I just wanted to get it right.
> 
> Happy birthday to The Best Boy~<3

(age 6)

“What is it?” Yuuri asked before he could stop himself.

Grandpa Daichi laughed and ruffled his hair. “Why don’t you open it and find out?”

Grandma Kana had to help him unwrap the big package, and he could tell that Daddy had the video camera turned on and pointed at him. “Yuuri, what’s in the box?” his father called.

“I ‘unno.” Yuuri finally tore into the colorful wrapping paper, and he heard Mama laughing from the table.

It’s still warm in Hawai’i, and yesterday Yuuri and Mari had gone with Daddy and Grandpa to Pearl Harbor to see a bunch of boats. Mari hadn’t been that interested - she’d wanted to go to the beach instead, and Yuuri hadn’t understood why Pearl Harbor was so special. Daddy and Grandpa had seemed very sad, though, so Yuuri hadn’t complained. They had thrown flowers into the sea and then taken Yuuri and Mari out for shaved ice afterwards.

Mama went scuba diving instead of going to Pearl Harbor, but Yuuri and Mari were both too little to go with her; for Yuuri’s birthday that day, they’d gotten on a boat and gone out to see actual sharks out past the reefs. Mama had pointed out the different types of sharks and helped Yuuri give them all names. Mari had been more interested in seeing them eat the chum that the boat driver had brought along, but it had made Yuuri feel yucky.

When they’d gotten back to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, Grandpa had handed Yuuri a weird-shaped present. It was covered in wrapping paper that reminded Yuuri of the Hawaiian shirts Grandpa always wore.

He finally got the paper off and frowned at the blank cardboard box. “Grandpa,” he called. “What is it?”

“I told you, ku’uipo, you need to open it.”

Yuuri dug his fingernails into the edges of the box and tried to pull the tape off. Daddy eventually handed the camera to Mama and sat down next to Yuuri with his pocket knife flipped open. He made Yuuri sit back so he wasn’t close to the knife, and then carefully cut away the tape before letting Yuuri take the box back.

When he pulled the box open, his mouth dropped open. Grandma went “aww” somewhere from behind him as he pulled what looked like a tiny guitar from the tissue paper inside the box. “Is this for me?” he asked, a little overwhelmed.

“Yes, it is!” Grandpa said, grinning, and he accepted Yuuri’s tearful hug with a big laugh. “Are you going to play for me?”

“I don’t know how!” Yuuri sobbed, hugging his new ukulele close to his chest.

“Let me show you a few notes just to get you started,” Grandpa said, pulling Yuuri into his lap and gently placing Yuuri’s little hands onto the ukulele’s neck and body. “We’ll get you up to Mari’s speed soon enough.”

“Mari, do you want to get your ukulele too?” Mama asked, and Mari yelped in excitement before dashing off to her room to dig through her luggage.

(Years later, the video of Mari and Yuuri goofing around on their very first ukuleles would surface on Facebook before splicing into a more recent clip of them playing together, complete with the subtitle “Some Things Never Change.” Their mother shared it every single time it circulated.)

 

(age 13)

Yuuko Toyomura was the oldest friend that Yuuri’s mom invited to his birthday party. She was already in high school, automatically more worldly than everyone else, and yet she still wanted to hang out and play Nintendo games with a bunch of goofy middle-school kids instead of whatever her classmates were doing on their Thanksgiving breaks. It helped when your mothers were close friends, Yuuri was willing to admit.

Still, after the majority of his party guests had gone home except for Yuuko and Takeshi, Yuuri had to wonder why she would stick around otherwise. He knew for a fact that she had a Wii of her own at home, and yet here she was.

Takeshi was in the grade ahead of Yuuri, so they only got to hang out during after school clubs and whenever Yuuri wasn’t busy with music lessons or dance. Yuuri wasn’t sure what he’ll do when Takeshi went ahead to high school without him, and then he and Yuuko would leave Yuuri behind…

“Hm,” Yuuko said as they switched from Rock Band to Brawl. “Hold on a second.” She ran to go dig through her windbreaker’s jacket, emerging with a small wrapped square. “Here’s your super secret present,” she said, brandishing it like it was a prize on a game show. “I figured you’d want to open it without everyone around.”

“What _is_ it?” Takeshi asked, waggling his eyebrows. “Should I go get his mom?”

“You are literally the worst,” Yuuko deadpanned as Yuuri frowned and picked at the edges of the wrapping paper. “C’mon, Yuuri, open it!”

Yuuri easily popped the taped edges up and unfolded the paper, revealing a CD. “What is this?” he asked, frowning.

“It’s the Hanon Holiday Concert from last year,” Yuuko said. “Look on the back.”

Yuuri turned the CD over, frowning. “Why would you give me this?” He searched the tracklist on the back.

“Track eleven,” Yuuko said, and Yuuri skipped ahead to it.

His heart thudded in his chest when he saw it: _In A Child’s Eyes - Viktor Nikiforov and Charlotte Watsford_.

“Oh,” he said softly, his face heating up.

“Cool, right?” Yuuko asked, nudging him with her shoulder. “They had leftovers! I thought it was so lucky. And he’s performing this year, too! I have to go see it for the required essay in choir, the tickets are free. Wanna go?”

“You’re going to go to a _Hanon_ concert?” Takeshi laughed. “On purpose?”

“I just said I have to go see it,” Yuuko said, throwing one of the couch pillows at Takeshi. “Why, are you jealous?”

“Puh-leeze.”

The chance to see Viktor Nikiforov playing live was… _overwhelming_. The Hanon Holiday Concert usually happened a couple weeks before the winter break, which means it was soon. Yuuri’s heart began to thud in his chest. “I… wanna go,” he said softly.

“Cool!” Yuuko said, clapping. “I’ll grab two tickets!”

(She ended up getting three, and Takeshi came along. Viktor played the accompaniment part to an obscure Old English hymn for a trio of chamber singers, and then went on to play a jazz piece by himself. Yuuri snuck away from his friends to give the amused PTA member $20 to pre-order this year’s Holiday Concert CD, which he received in the mail right before Christmas. He immediately ripped Viktor’s tracks onto his iPod, and it became one of his favorite holiday albums.)

 

(age 16)

“I planned on getting you whatever CD Viktor was going to put out,” Yuuko said as Yuuri got the movie started. He wasn’t sure how well the majesty of _The Avengers_ would hold up on a smaller screen, but he was looking forward to seeing the Hulk beating up Loki again. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Yuuri said softly. “It’s not your fault.”

Viktor’s planned recording debut had abruptly been cancelled shortly before Yuuri’s birthday, and Viktor himself had disappeared from the public eye a while ago. No one knew what was going on, and his parents weren’t talking about it. That didn’t stop the rumor mills from churning, and every bit of gossip made Yuuri feel sick inside. He just hoped that Viktor was okay.

Later on, Mom brought in gluten-free cupcakes and ice cream for everyone. Phichit used one of the throw blankets to do a pretty decent Thor impression, and Seung Gil revealed himself to be a closet DC fanatic, which led to a Battle of the Comics Nerds.

After _The Avengers_ ended, everyone voted to watch _The Dark Knight_ to compare the two. _The Dark Knight Rises_ wouldn’t be released for a bit, so they’d have to make do. Everyone eventually started arguing over which superhero franchise worked better; Yuuko and Phichit were on Marvel’s side and Takeshi and Seung Gil on DC’s, and Yuuri refused to be the tiebreaker. Instead, he put on _The Incredibles_ and they all ended up quoting Edna Mode’s iconic _No Capes_ monologue. Elastigirl was declared the superhero MVP.

(For Christmas that year, they went to visit Dad’s family in Hawai’i. Yuuri very quickly discovered that there were plenty of things to do on Oahu that didn’t involve the ocean, and he and Mari ended up with accidental cameos on the b-roll footage for the revived _Hawaii Five-0_ TV show. That was kind of cool.)

 

(age 20)

Phichit demanded that Yuuri come with him to see _Moana_ in theaters once they’d both gotten back to their apartment after spending Thanksgiving with their families. Yuuri wasn’t all that interested in actually seeing the movie, but the Lin Manuel Miranda soundtrack was _amazing_ , so he figured that Phichit treating him to a movie for his birthday couldn’t hurt. They ended up in a pretty packed theater, and Yuuri kept Vicchan in his lap as the movie started.

“Do you understand any of the words?” Phichit asked during one of the longer song sequences, as Moana discovered her people’s heritage as voyagers.

“Pretty sure that’s Maori,” Yuuri answered. “I only know a few words of Hawaiian, and not enough to really talk to people.”

Phichit hemmed as the song went on and the words switched to English. “Hey, you think you can learn some of these songs?”

“It’s Lin Manuel, of course I can learn these songs,” Yuuri muttered.

“Piano or ukulele?”

“Both.”

“Nerd.”

There was still popcorn left over in their buckets after the movie finished - and Yuuri could admit that it was a good movie, very cute, he definitely liked it better than _Frozen_ \- and he and Phichit hung back as all the families with little kids filed out of the theater. Yuuri didn’t feel like having to deal with kids trying to grab at Vicchan (and their parents flipping out at him when he told them to stop) so he contentedly listened to the end credits music as Phichit played with his phone.

“Smile~!” Phichit said, and Yuuri pulled a face as Phichit snapped a photo and his phone made the shutter noise. “Nice. I’m gonna call this ‘Birthday Boy in his natural state’ or something.”

“Witty,” Yuuri said, stretching.

“I _will_ get you smiling one day,” Phichit vowed as he furiously typed in his caption for Instagram.

“Yeah, sure,” Yuuri said, rubbing Vicchan’s ears. “Maybe that’ll be the day Viktor Nikiforov vows his undying love for me.”

Phichit’s eyebrows went up. “Well. This could be your year.”

“Please.”

“Seriously, this year is gonna be amazing. We have an eclipse in August--”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Yuuri asked, making a face.

“I’m pretty sure there are local legends about how magical eclipses are,” Phichit said.

“Hm,” Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Maybe the ocean will choose me to return the heart of Te Fiti.”

“Anything could happen, the sea is a magical thing,” Phichit insisted, and Yuuri chucked some of his leftover popcorn at him until he stopped talking and retaliated. The credits were long over when the usher finally asked them to leave so she could clean.

(The eclipse came and went, and Yuuri thought nothing of it. And then the next day, Viktor Nikiforov was in the cafe and Phichit was daring him to serve drinks to Viktor’s table.

And that was just the start.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 14 for the main fic is mostly done, just awaiting edits! I haven't forgotten either of these! Chapter 15 is underway!
> 
> Come talk to me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/linneakou) and [Tumblr](http://linneakou.tumblr.com)! Keep an eye out for me in a couple zines, too!


	16. December 26th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this year will be Georgi's year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in 2009, Georgi is turning sixteen. Actually happens the same week as ["cousins, part iii"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15047843/chapters/36063558).

December in California used to be weird to Georgi. He still had vague memories of living somewhere that got snow in the wintertime, but he and his family had been in Lucía Bay for so long that the mild winters had become normal.

The other thing he’d gotten used to was everyone outside of his family completely forgetting his birthday.

Deya was never any help; he _loved_ to make fun of Georgi’s plight, the jerk. His birthday was in the autumn and he got to celebrate during the school week if the date fell on a weekday. Georgi would never admit envying his older brother, but sometimes it really wore at him that Deya got an entire school day to be fawned over by his female classmates.

Their parents had attempted to arrange a birthday party so Georgi could celebrate with his classmates, but they kept running into that little problem of _everyone going on vacation for Christmas._

Oh yeah, thanks to the rest of the world celebrating Christmas the day before, no one was even around to actually forget his birthday. _Thanks, Jesus._

(“Jesus was probably actually a summer baby,” Charlotte Watsford had muttered in Homeroom. “We should be celebrating Christmas in July.”

Their teacher had not been amused.)

His friends, for the most part, had texted him birthday wishes and promised to drop off cards and gifts once they were home again, but the day after Christmas dawned dull and sluggish. Georgi already knew most of the shops were still going to be closed until late, and there was no point going to any of his usual haunts, so he just stayed home playing Xbox in the basement and ignoring his brother’s bad advice and catcalling.

Around noon, his phone buzzed.

 

 **Viktor:** hey so guess what sux

 **Georgi:** havin a bday right after xmas?

 **Viktor:** HAH o wow u read my mind

 **Georgi:** xcpt u were born on xmas so

 **Viktor:** yeah except I just got lectured by my 6yo cousin about how I couldnt make Jesus’s bday all about me

 **Viktor:** and the boys all threw tantrums when my grandma gave me extra presents

 **Viktor:** it would be the mature thing for me to be like just don’t buy me extra gifts but also it sucks because ITS MY BDAY THO

 **Viktor:** also we r flying out early tmoro because detroit is expecting a snowstorm which means im getting up at 4am to catch a plane at 630 instead of waiting until the afternoon which is why I texted u to complain

 **Georgi:** thats rough man

 **Viktor:** 4am

 **Viktor:** next year im staying in cali

 **Georgi:** lol yea we can sit around n b 4gottn

 **Georgi:** solidarity

 **Viktor:** lol we can marathon all the home alone movies n die inside

 **Georgi:** can i hide from deya at ur house bcuz he got another gfriend and wnt stop rubbin it in my face

 **Viktor:** thats rough dude

 **Viktor:** what happened to mary?

 **Georgi:** we broke up weeks ago

 **Viktor:** geez im sry i had no idea

 **Viktor:** well she was kinda rude so

 **Georgi:** it still sux tho

 **Georgi:** bein single at xmas+bday

 **Viktor:** yep

 **Viktor:** but dnt wry ur a chick magnet

 **Viktor:** i bet u will get a better gf b4 january is over

 **Georgi:** lol i wish

 **Viktor:** k fine

 **Viktor:** but hey happy bday do u want some cousins

 **Viktor:** u can have mine 4 free

 **Georgi:** nah u can keep em

 **Georgi:** that mustache took 4eva to wash off

 **Viktor:** lol well u looked good w it

 **Georgi:** lol screw u

 **Viktor:** ;)

 

Georgi remembered how the last time he’d encountered Viktor’s cousins, he’d ended up getting a wonky mustache drawn on his face with permanent marker courtesy of the next-eldest after Viktor. Her mother had apologized about eighty times, and Deya had almost pissed himself laughing.

He went back to his game, and texted a little with Charlotte, who had come back home that day and wanted to go see the new _Sherlock Holmes_ movie in theaters. They ended up making plans for that weekend because Char insisted they wait for Viktor to get home so he could tag along. Obviously, she was still hopelessly in love with Viktor, but even Georgi could tell how gay Viktor was, even if the other pianist wouldn’t admit it yet. He’d been to enough GSA meetings to know that he would be better off leaving Viktor alone on that.

For his part, Georgi just hoped he’d be able to catch a ride with one of his parents instead of having to ask Deya - the last thing he needed was any more time trapped alone with his brother.

His birthday dinner was pretty chill, since Mom had pulled out all the stops that morning for his breakfast and he was fine with eating holiday leftovers, but the chocolate cupcakes with sparklers were still nice. He got to open a few presents, including a ton of surfing stuff and his long-awaited copy of the _Ghostbusters_ game, and then Deya ducked out to go canoodle with his new girlfriend and leave Georgi to take over the basement in peace.

A few hours into busting ghosts and singing the theme song more times than he could count, he snapped out of it enough to realize that it was almost eleven and his dad was yelling at him to go to bed already. He’d been sixteen for almost nineteen hours.

“I don’t feel any different,” he muttered as he left his phone charging on his desk and changed into his pajamas. Was this seriously how every birthday was going to feel now that he was getting older? It wasn’t like he was going to be getting a car or anything anytime soon, so this was just another birthday.

Checking his Facebook revealed a spam of last-minute birthday wishes and a ton of pokes, which was kind of nice. Maybe Facebook wasn’t as awful as his parents thought.

Still, maybe this would be His Year. He was closer to graduating, and he was moderately popular at school. All the movies had awesome stuff happening to the main characters when they turned sixteen.

Maybe.

(2010 started off with a _fwump_ as he was rejected for a New Years Kiss by one of the friendlier neighbor girls, and then proceeded to go stag for the Sadie Hawkins dance. He got passed over as a soloist in choir _twice_ , and had a string of lackluster dates throughout the spring quarter. The surfing season was generally sucky, too. 2010 was _not_ his year. Oh well. Maybe next year.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Gosha, 2017 is gonna be Your Year. (I promise!)
> 
> True story, my aunt's birthday is the 27th and she used to hate the holidays because everyone _did_ forget her birthday. She's over it, but I think she would have enjoyed the Russian holiday traditions a bit more than our American ones. (Happy Birthday, Auntie!!)
> 
> Just a reminder that I'm still at all the usual places like Twitter and Tumblr, but I also now have a [ Dreamwidth](https://linneakou.dreamwidth.org) and a [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/LinneaKou) account! Happy holidays, everyone!


	17. Splash Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mila's first day of retail, and a check in on the Orchesis gang!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bit was the original second half of the main fic's [chapter 15](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12155436/chapters/41925596), but Gab and I both thought it was a bit too much fluff and too little actual plot to work. It really is basically filler, but I enjoyed writing it and may have used it to vent about my experience in customer service (that's always fun, right?)
> 
> Plus, I wanted to bring Sara, Phichit, and Yuuri back in again (and I promise they become more prominent in the story, this is literally all according to plan!!) and who doesn't love banter?
> 
> A huge thank you to Gab for helping me clean this bit up when it was still in the main fic's chapter!
> 
> Enjoy!

Friday was Mila’s first day working at Splash Dream, where Sara would be training her for the whole four-hour shift before they both took off for Orchesis.

“You punch in at the cash register,” Sara said, demonstrating. It was just after two in the afternoon, and Mila had stashed her purse in the backroom where Sara had shown her.

Mila had spent two hours the previous evening getting all her paperwork filed, including getting her state ID xeroxed and a ton of other stuff, and then she’d had to sit through a crapton of boring videos played on an old computer in the manager’s office. The store manager had called it “orientation” but it had been so boring that Mila had nearly fallen asleep. She was more of a hands-on learner.

“Did Diana give you your employee ID number?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mila said, fishing in her pocket for the printout. “And she gave me a PIN.”

“Cool, go ahead and type it in so we can get you on the clock.”

Mila poked at the register keys while Sara looked out at the store. At the moment, it was mostly empty except for two girls in Hanon uniforms looking at jewelry.

Mila made a satisfied noise when the register displayed a _success_ message, and then looked up at Sara. “Oh,” she said, following her friend’s eyeline. “Are we…?”

“They think they’re being slick,” Sara said, closing the register drawer - it had popped open when Mila had punched in. “One second.”

She rounded the counter, pasting a Customer Service smile on her face. “Can I help you girls find anything?” she asked, her voice high and sweet.

The girls jumped guiltily, and mumbled responses that Mila didn’t hear. Sara’s face didn’t change at all, but she nodded and headed back to the register. “The merchandise is all tagged,” she said in an undertone. “If they leave the store, the alarm will go off, and there’s a security guard station two doors down.”

“Good grief,” Mila said. “There are cameras everywhere.”

“Yep. They always try anyway.” Sara rolled her eyes. “Anyway, let’s get you started.”

It took Sara about an hour to run Mila through the checkout procedure, and she had Mila watch her ring up a few customers to see how it worked. The wannabe-shoplifters ended up chickening out and leaving the jewelry behind in a pile by the sunglasses rack, and when the store emptied out again, Mila helped Sara hang the merchandise back on the correct pegs.

Sara had Mila do a couple checkouts by herself, which Mila caught the hang of fairly quickly. One customer came in with an exchange, which led to Sara teaching Mila how to process refunds and exchanges. “We don’t take back swimsuit bottoms with the safety strip removed,” Sara said. “Never forget that. They’re considered biohazards, or something.”

“Right,” Mila agreed.

“That’s so dumb,” the customer said, even though she was exchanging a hat.

Mila and Sara both exchanged exasperated looks, but got the woman rung up and sent on her way.

“Okay, it’s been about two hours for you, so it’s time for your break.” Sara called her coworker over and left her with the register, dragging Mila into the backroom for their paid fifteen minutes.

“By the way, the register kicks you out if you’re punched in for over six hours without punching out for lunch,” Sara added as she stabbed her juice box with the straw. “If that happens too many times, you might get terminated.”

“Yikes,” Mila said, nibbling on her granola. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“It’s really easy,” Sara said. “You won’t have any problems with it.”

Mila grinned. “Sweet. Oh dear,” she said as she pulled her phone out of her purse and got a look at all the WhatsApp notifications. “Oh. Oh _boy_.”

“Russian stuff?” Sara guessed, raising her eyebrows.

“More like… Yura stuff,” Mila hedged. “Have I mentioned he’s a little ball of drama?”

“Oh boy,” Sara said. “I keep hearing about his mom being a total bitch, is that what’s going on?”

“I mean, no, it’s something else,” Mila said, feeling bad that she’d dragged Yuri into something that wasn’t all on him. “But he’s involved and he’s very opinionated about it.”

“He wouldn’t be Yuri Plisetsky if he weren’t opinionated.” Sara sipped at her juice box. “Hey, I just had a thought; you know Yuuri Katsuki _and_ Yuri Plisetsky now.”

Mila made a face. “Yeah?”

“We need to come up with nicknames for them so we don’t confuse who we’re talking about.”

“Well, we do call Yuri P ‘Yura’ a lot,” Mila said. “That’s enough for me.”

“I guess,” Sara said, shrugging. “Russian nicknames don’t make any sense.”

“They do if you’re Russian,” Mila said, and giggled when Sara elbowed her. “What? It’s true!”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Sara said, tossing her empty juice box into the trash can. “What sort of drama is going on today?”

Mila flicked through her notification screen. Beka had managed to convince Yuri - _again_ \- that he and Chris would be fine without Yuri and the others coming out to the island with them. Every time they settled the issue, Yuri would bring it back up and Beka would talk him down again.

For now, Yuri was less than pleased… but at least he wasn’t yelling in all caps anymore.

“We seem to be handling the drama,” Mila reported.

Sara made a supportive noise as she tore into her pack of trail mix. “That’s a relief.”

“You have no idea,” Mila agreed, dropping her phone back into her purse. “So anyway, when are you free for the Sephora crawl?”

“Probably Sunday. I’m off the whole day,” Sara said, nibbling on a pretzel. “What about everyone else?”

“I think Cariba and Claire are both busy on Sunday, but Ivy wants to go and I know Lucy is free on Sunday afternoon. Amy and Phoebe are good to go, too.” Mila rolled her head on her neck. “As far as I know, I’m good for Sunday unless someone begs me to switch a shift with them.”

_Or unless something weird goes down tomorrow and we have to deal with it._

“So Sunday?” Sara was typing on her own phone, and she looked really happy. “Perfect! I’m so happy, I need to get out more.”

“You’re out all the time!”

“Yeah, but I mean like for something other than school or work.” Sara shrugged. “I liked Swing, though.”

“You should come back!” Mila poked Sara with the toe of her shoe. “It’d be fun! It’s great cardio.”

“Yeah, but Mickey didn’t like it.”

“Mickey can go eat it.” Mila made a face. “You two don’t have to do _everything_ together, and he doesn’t even like dancing anyway. He should stick to the sax.”

“He won’t listen,” Sara muttered.

“What if we found you a harmless dance partner that he couldn’t object to?” Mila said. “Someone who won’t cop a feel?”

“Hm, who do we know that wouldn’t cop a feel?” Sara wondered, tapping her chin.

“Viktor,” Mila said immediately.

Sara burst out laughing. “Uh, I’ve seen him dance. He’s worse than Mickey.”

“Maybe we should get Yuuri to teach him how to move; he did well on the night of the bonfire,” Mila said, giggling.

Sara’s eyebrows went up. “Interesting,” she said, and Mila was hit with potent meme vibes.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Who’d’ve thunk.”

Sara giggled. “Well, I’d love to go to another Swing thing.”

“Swing thing,” Mila repeated. “But seriously. Just show up, same time and place, and we’ll find you a partner. Phichit knows everyone in the club.”

“I only trust Phichit on _some_ things,” Sara said, picking at her cuticles. “But he wouldn’t steer me wrong in dance.”

“Hey, don’t make eyes at my swing partner.” Mila narrowed her eyes, but the effect was ruined when she couldn’t keep a straight face. “We’re gonna take it to competition, and we are _going_ to get the blue ribbon this year.”

“Wouldn’t dream of standing in your way.” After that, their fifteen minutes were up, so they tossed their garbage in the little trashcan next to the door and let themselves back out into the store again.

 

By the end of her first shift, Mila had gotten hang of the register to the point that Sara was able to walk away and assist a customer across the store without Mila needing to call her back for help. The only thing that tripped her up was removing the anti-shoplifting sensors on the swimsuits, but the other coworker was able to help her with that. Sara and Mila punched out around the same time and ducked out the back of the building to retrieve their scooters.

“I can’t wait until I’ve saved up enough money for a car,” Sara grumbled as she fastened her helmet under her chin.

“I can’t wait until I can bum rides off of you,” Mila said, and Sara snorted.

Traffic around the boardwalk and on the way back to the Ariel was fairly dense, which made sense - it was officially the weekend; tourists and locals alike were converging on the popular restaurants and bars to shake off the workweek.

The campus, on the other hand, was starting to empty out. The girls left their scooters at the bike racks and headed inside, sighing in relief at the blast of air conditioning in the atrium.

Orchesis had taken over one of the larger dance rooms, outfitted like a ballet studio. A few other members of the troupe were already there, stretching. Mila and Sara dropped their things by the mirror, kicked their street shoes off underneath the barre, and drifted over to join Phichit.

“So,” Phichit said, from his seated position on the floor. He was folded over his own legs, his nose almost to his knees and his hands flat on the floor next to his feet. “How was Baby’s First Shift?”

“She did great,” Sara said, putting her elbow in the middle of Phichit’s back and leaning on him so that his stretch went even deeper. Phichit yelped.

“I got to watch a master at work, scaring off a couple shoplifters,” Mila added, pulling her dance shoes on.

“We get high school kids trying the five-fingered discount all the time,” Sara said breezily, letting Phichit back up. “Those girls will probably be back.”

“You know what I love?” Phichit asked, only sounding a little winded. “Bill-dashers. You know? Like, they order all this food and then disappear before you can show up with the bill?”

 _Hm._ That made something spark in Mila’s mind. “Isn’t that why there are cameras everywhere nowadays?”

“Yep. We even have printouts posted in the kitchen of people banned from the cafe.” Phichit sat all the way up and wiggled his feet. “Gotta love it.”

“Do you think people were always this dishonest? Or is it a new thing?” Sara wondered as she changed into her own dance shoes.

“Probably always,” Phichit said. “But it’s such a tiny few people, so no one really noticed until we had tech. Seriously, people that actually steal stuff don’t come around much, most people pay for their food.”

“That’s a relief,” Mila said. “Oh, Yuuri!”

Yuuri waved from the door as he unhooked little Vicchan’s leash from the harness and dropped his bag next to everyone else’s stuff. He joined them in stretching, leaving his service dog to curl up next to the mirror and snooze.

“Ugh, we got hit with the dinnertime rush,” Yuuri said as he slowly worked himself into a split, which Mila thought was a tad showoffish. “Minako literally kicked me out before I could run late.”

“See?” Phichit said, looking at Mila. “This is why we need more employees! Sara, I’m sniping her.”

“Yuuko and Seung Gil are there, and Takashi said he’d help out,” Yuuri said. “Emil’s coming in at six-thirty, and Minako’s working the coffee bar, too. Starbucks can run with less staff.”

“I still think we could use more help, a few more hands.”

“I’m keeping her,” Sara said, sticking her tongue out. “She picked up the register after an hour of watching me.”

“Peach,” Yuuri said, switching into another split. “Minako will hire more people when she thinks she needs to.”

Phichit blew a raspberry, and then the Orchesis co-captains entered the room and greeted a few of the other dancers. Claire had been made co-captain that year, and the other was Anya, a senior and a graduate from Hanon. Mila had heard rumors that Georgi had taken an interest in her.

Well, according to Isabella, Anya was a bit picky. Maybe Mila should pop in and warn Yakov. Just in case.

She checked her phone one last time and blinked when she saw the explosion of messages from WhatsApp.

“More Russian stuff?” Sara asked as Mila flipped her phone to silent mode and dropped it back in her bag.

“You know it,” Mila said, waggling her eyebrows.

“Oooooh, does this include one Viktor Nikiforov?” Phichit leaned in, blinking innocently.

Behind him, Yuuri stiffened.

“Yep, we dragged him into it. He’s being the Responsible Adult.” Mila stretched her back and felt a few satisfying pops along her spine. “And since he’s being responsible, I can focus on what’s important.”

“Hear hear,” Sara said as Claire clapped and called for attention, and then they all moved away from the mirrors and into the center of the practice room to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me around the web on [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/linneakou), [Tumblr](https://linneakou.tumblr.com), [Dreamwidth](https://linneakou.dreamwidth.org/), and [Pillowfort!](https://www.pillowfort.io/LinneaKou) If you're so inclined, check out the dedicated pinboard on my [Pinterest](https://www.pinterest.com/linneakou/)!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to prompt me for stuff in this AU! I can be found over on my [Tumblr](http://linneakou.tumblr.com) (if I don't respond, Tumblr has probably eaten the ask) or [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/linneakou).
> 
> Also feel free to leave a comment here with prompts or ideas, since AO3 is great at getting me my messages! Or just comment about anything because that makes my day!


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